Zootopia, SIS: Castle De'ath
by Mister Smail
Summary: Some years after the events of the film, Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde are now top agents in Zootopia's Secret Intelligence Service. In this, the first of a new (nonlinear) series, the duo go undercover to a Highland Castle with more hidden in its aged walls than might first appear. Based on the British TV series 'The Avengers', a "secret-agent thriller that almost bests James Bond."
1. A Meeting of Chance

It was the break of dawn and the sun was just beginning to rise. The light turned the sky into shades of pale blue and clouded white, yet the earth below was turned to black silhouettes. A thin mist settled upon the moors, upon the rolling slopes and muirs, and the patches of heather on the peat. Several hundred miles North of the grand and civilized city of Zootopia, the land was far less civil; untamed, almost. For it was here, in the Zootopia Highlands, that for generations clan fought clan for the honor, enhancement and greaterment of the tribe.

The air was crisp and still, as it always was on mornings such as this, a wind blowing through the damp, foggy air and a layer of dew on the hardy grass.

Through the thin air, a sound rang, carrying across the miles of empty, Highland moor. The sound of bagpipes - its clear notes playing a droning tune from within the depths of an aged, Highland castle.

The castle was tall and wide, built from brick as old and hardy and as the foundations of the very mountains themselves. The fortress was silhouetted black against the rising sun, it's strong towers and thick walls sat lurking among the miles of unbroken marshland.

Built by a clan once feared by even the strongest of their enemies, the fortress they inhabited became known as a place of fear. For hundreds of years the stronghold held firm against time and raids for this, my friend, this is Castle De'ath.

The sound of bagpipes played clearly from within, the sound of it's wistful, eerie tune echoing though the high, arched corridors and wide dining hall, through rooms decorated with suits of armor with swords hung upon the wall, and too a room which lead down to the basement, the dungeon, the torture room.

The air was chill, the walls and floors made from stern and smooth rock. A stone staircase lead down from the door frame, banistered by old and fragile wood. A number of tools hung down from the roof and upon the walls, pliers, thumb screws, nails, saws, rope, whips. Against one wall was an iron maiden, painted to resemble a female badger in mourning. And in the center of all was what looked to be an unusually designed table - otherwise known as The Rack - and tied down upon the wooden bed with tight, leather straps, was the stripped figure of a Newfoundland dog, screaming in agony as the towering frame of a badger turned the handle on the rack, pulling his neck up a little higher, pulling his body tight and gradually ripping his spine apart.

The woman's face painted onto the iron maiden gazed down upon the figure on the rack. The handle turned again. The dog cried out. The bagpipes played. This, my friend... this is Castle De'ath.

...

A few hours after the passing of dawn the sun had rose into the morning's blue sky. No longer casting silhouettes upon the earth, the high mountains and wide moors were light and grand, and the previously ominous moors tinged pink with the heather growing upon them. The mist had cleared, the birds sang, and the masonry of the castle shone with a warm light which reflected off it's creamy-white bricks.

The castle's courtyard was fresh, a small patch of grassland at its center, surrounded on all sides by the ageless walls of this castle which was once so grand and stately - yet with time the clan has fallen into decay. While the castle was still inhabited, the size of the De'ath family had dwindled to but two, and the castle was showing signs of it's age. It was built to last indeed, but brick crumbles, and wood rots.

From the main gate outside the castle walls, two kilted badgers entered the main courtyard and paced along the gravel path towards the main keep. The first was a younger, thinner badger who walked slightly ahead of the other, his gait hurried as he impatiently tried to avoid discussion with the second. The second was older, taller, wider. He followed the first mammal as he marched towards the main keep and pushed open the door, following him close behind as he spoke.

"You'll not be letting people trudge and tramp all over the place, ah hope?"

"Aye," the younger said, "I'm thinking about it, McGnab."

"Where's your dignity?" he shot as he pulled the door shut, "You have a position to maintain."

"And a castle to keep up. No small expensive in these days."

"Well I'd rather be poor than have strangers peep and pry."

"Do you think I want it, McGnab?"

Both mammals turned at the sound of car revving its engine close by.

Outside, an expensive car drove in through the main gates and pulled up to a stop at the end of the gravel path. The door swung open and a small padded foot stepped out. The young rabbit stood and gazed about at the high walls that surrounded her, her amethyst eyes glistening in the sunlight as she took in her surroundings with some little ore. Reaching back in, the rabbit took out a small suitcase before locking the door and making towards the large wooden doors to the main keep.

The door opened and the rabbit stepped in, a warm smile on her face as she gazed up at the two badgers who looked down at her with scrupulous suspicion.

"Good-morning," she chirruped, reaching out on tip-toe to offer her paw to the younger badger. "Are you Mister De'ath?"

"I am," he said after a moment, stooping a little as he reached down to shake the rabbit's paw, "and who might you be?"

"Hopps, Miss Judy Hopps." She retracted her paw and craned her neck to look expectantly up to Mister De'ath and McGnab as they shared a baffled glance to one another. Clocking their confusion, the rabbit stepped firmly into the room with an innocent smile and looked about at the premises. "Well, it's a lovely place you have here. It certainly has a lot of potential."

"Potential?" said De'ath.

"Oh, yes," she said, looking up the large chimney, "It's a big job but it'll be worth it in the end."

"Worth it?"

"I think I'm gonna enjoy staying here."

"Staying here?"

The rabbit retracted her head from the fireplace and turned to De'ath, a brow raised. "The job will take a day or two, but I thought I made that clear in my letter."

"What letter?"

"The one in reply to yours," she answered, smiling pleasantly.

"My letter?"

Her smile slowly fell. "I'm sorry, you _did_ say you were Mister Angus De'ath?"

The badger smiled, tiresomely. "No, I am _Ian_ De'ath."

"The thirty-fifth Laird," McGnab added.

"The De'ath who wrote to you is my cousin. What's this all about, Miss Hopps?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," the rabbit said, "my mistake." Walking to a sturdy, old table she placed her case upon it and started to undo the clasps. "You see, your cusian has hired my company as consultants."

"And that company would be?"

"Abor Cashaata."

"Abbaco what?"

"The Advisory Bureau Of Refurbishing Castles And Stately Homes As A Tourist Attraction." She pulled the case open and took out a large sheet of paper. "My card." The rabbit crossed the room to Mister De'ath and handed him the large sheet of paper - which was merely calling-card sized in his paws.

"And what did this letter say, Miss Hopps?" asked McGnab.

"Well, Angus De'ath wrote to tell us that the castle was being opened to the public."

"Did he, now?" said Ian.

"And my job in all this is to advise him in the best way to attract customers."

"Pah!" the older badger interjected suddenly, "he's a got a nerve alright."

"Miss Hopps," De'ath said, "as Laird of the Clan De'ath, I am the one to make the decisions about the future of the castle, and when I see Angus I'll-"

There was a whooshing sound as a black object few through the air, between De'ath and McGnab, and impaled an inch into the wall, barely a foot above the startled rabbit's head. Judy's gaze rose slowly, watching the crossbow bolt as it shook genitally back and forth in the wall just above her head, suddenly _very_ glad she had let her ears droop just moments before.

"Bull's eye," called a figure behind them. They turned as a third badger rushed down the stone staircase, discharged crossbow in his hand as he made towards the three.

"You dam fool, Angus," Ian shot, "you could've killed somebunny!"

"Aye," the third badger said, "but I didn't, did I?"

"So what's the next trick," Judy said, "putting an apple on top of my head?"

"He tried that before," Ian muttered, "it didn't go at all well."

Angus chuckled at the rabbit's disturbed expression. "Don't worry, Lass," he said, "it was just a tailor's dummy." He stepped towards her, reaching out and bending down to shake her paw. "You must be Miss Hopps. Welcome to Castle De'ath."

"Thank you," the rabbit said, "I've already tripped over the mat."

"Angus," Ian cut in harshly, "you might do me the courtesy of letting me know exactly what you're up to next time. First a Highland historian nosing about the place, and now a publicity consultant?"

"Och, I'm terribly sorry Ian, it must've slipped my mind." Angus held Ian's firm gaze steadily with a small smile, before everyone's eyes were drawn down by the feminine sound of Judy's voice.

"Perhaps I'd better just go."

"No," said Ian, "Angus invited you here, and I'll have no-one accusing the De'ath's of being inhospitable. But remember this, the both of you: when the time comes to be making any decisions, I'm the one who will decide what we will do, and what we will not do."

Judy's gaze turned to Angus, then back to Ian.

"Enjoy your stay, Miss Hopps," Ian said as he turned to leave. "Come along, McGnab."

The tall, wide figure of McGnab stared down at Hopps for a few seconds more, then walked on behind him. Judy turned to Angus. He was a little younger than his cusian and somewhat overweight - but not tall and bulky like McGnab. She sighed a little as she her head turned up to him.

"Well, you might have warned me there were two of you."

"Och, don't let Ian upset you," he said, reloading his crossbow, "he's much too caught up with the honor and glory of Clan De'ath and that sort of thing. Would you care to try?" he added, proffering the crossbow towards her.

"Thanks. So, what was that Ian said about a Highland historian?" she said, holding her paws up to take the device.

"Yes, there's a fox here interested in writing a book on the thirteenth Laird. Ian isn't to keen on it though." He placed the crossbow genitally into the rabbit's paws. The rabbit struggled as she tried to hold it up, realizing too late the device was clearly designed with much larger mammals in mind.

"O- _oh?_ " she wheezed, trying to control her balance while wielding the large device, "I would have... would have thought he would've been happy for the chance to get the clan name out there a little more."

"No, no. Not the thirteenth Laird. He's the blot in the family record; the traitor who betrayed the clan."

" _Well,"_ the rabbit stuttered, the weight of the crossbow overpowering her, "he sounds like a... _aah!_ " She teetered and tripped, landing with a thump on her back, accidentally firing the crossbow as she fell and shooting a bolt three inches into the head of a painting of Ian De'ath on the wall.

Angus chuckled as he reached down with a paw to help the blushing rabbit to her feet.

"Sorry," she said, quietly.

"Och, don't worry about it. I always did say it was an over-flattering impression of him anyway. Come, lets meet out tame historian."

Picking up his crossbow, the badger lead the small figure of the rabbit up the stone staircase and into another hall. "This is the banqueting hall," he said, indicating a large, rectangular table with a dozen chairs around it, "and here's the table around which the clan used to gather in the old days."

"And now?"

"Huh, now it's just Ian and me."

"Passing the salt must be a challenge."

"Well we mostly have McGnab for that. He's our butler by the way - the tall mammal you met earlier. We also have two felines working here, the McKern's. They tend to run the operation in the background; McGnab has more to do with them than we do."

Following Angus, the rabbit came to the far wall, where there was a line of tall bookshelves baring a variety of thick, leather-bound books. There was a small ladder on rails which could be pushed back and forth along the bookshelf and used to reach books on the higher shelves. Currently occupying this ladder, was a red-furred mammal in a kilt who appeared not to notice the rabbit as she pace up behind him, accompanied by the large frame of the badger.

"And here is our tame historian," Angus said, "Miss Hopps, allow me to introduce, Mister MacWilde."

Turning on the step, MacWilde gazed down into Judy's face, his intelligent, emerald eyes glistening as a smirk grew on his face. The fox jumped down from the ladder and landed lightly on his feet.

The rabbit reached out a paw. "A pleasure to meet you, Mister MacWilde."

Reaching down a little and taking the rabbit's soft paw in his, he spoke. "Please, Miss Hopps, call me Nick."

Judy smiled, warmly. "Well, well," she said, "you're not from the Highlands. You sound more like a Zootopian mammal to me."

The fox grinned. "How intuitive. And you, Miss rabbit, you were grown in the famous Hopps' family farm, I'd wager."

"Well done," she said, a smile growing, "I hear you planning a book?"

"Yes, Black Jamie, the thirteenth Laird of De'ath."

"Odd," the rabbit said, looking about, "I haven't seen his portrait about anywhere."

"Och, no," Angus said, "we're not very proud of him, Miss Hopps. No, Black Jame's portrait is where it belongs, in the dungeons."

"Dungeons?" Hopps asked.

"No self-respecting castle goes without dungeons, Hopps," Nick said, winking to her.

"Can I have a look at them?" the rabbit asked, "Only, one can do so much with dungeons."

"Och, I'm afraid ours are in a very poor state of disrepair. Ian's reluctant to let anyone go down there. Oh," he added, looking to the fox, "Miss Hopps here is our publicity consultant. We're planning to open the castle up to the public."

"Oh good," the fox said, "but meanwhile, I'd better be getting along with this book. I think I'll take a stroll out in the glen and wee, bonny banks and... oh, I don't need permission to fish in the loch from Mister No-fun, do I?"

"What kind of fishing," said Ian De'ath, appearing and entering the room suddenly from behind the fox who turned swiftly to face him.

"The fishing rod type," the fox said in reply.

"Just so long as you're not one of those Aqualung mammals. There was an armature frogman, a Newfoundland, who drowned in the loch last week. His body was found in the banks three miles from here."

The rabbit's eyes met the fox. "How tragic," she said, "what happened?"

"They say the mechanism on is Aqualung jammed," Ian said. "Still, whatever it was, there'll be no more diving in he loch - I've made my mind up about that - but I have no objection to rod and line and so, Mister MacWilde, I wish you luck."

"With fishing," the fox said, "I'll probably need it. Oh, Miss Hopps," he added, pacing towards her, "since we're here there's a book I'd like to recommend to you."

He paced until he was close to her, then took a large, red book from a shelf, "This one's a comprehensive history to Clan De'ath. Did you know Mary Queen of once refused to sleep here?" The fox dropped his voice to a level only a rabbit's ears could hear. "Did you also know that Newfoundland was four inches taller when he was dead than when he was alive? He'd been on the rack."

Judy's startled gaze rose to meet Nick's. He nodded, turned, and paced his way back out of the room. Ian De'ath watched him as he left. "Which room is for Miss Hopps, Angus?"

"Och, I thought the former McMagnus room. May I show it to you? I'm sorry we don't have anywhere more suited to your size, but this is the best we can do."

"Oh, don't worry," Judy said, "I'm sure it'll be fine. And thinks for being so hospitable, Mister De'ath."

The rabbit followed the much larger Angus out of the room, leaving only Ian to watch distrustfully after her as she left as he lent on the empty table which was once the centerpiece of the entire De'ath clan.

...

Outside, in the warmth of the sun, stood on the castle keep balcony, stood a dark-furred feline holding a pare of binoculars, and the tall, wide frame of McGnab.

"That's MacWilde," McGnab said, looking down at the figure of the fox as he walked out towards the main gait along the gravel path. "Where's he going?"

"A walk by the look of it," the feline said.

"Alright, Robert, keep an eye on him. Chief's orders."

"Aye, sir." The feline raised the binoculars to his eyes and watched as the figure of the fox knelt down at the edge of the loch. "Why, that's ridiculous," he said after a moment, "he's sailing a wee paper boat!"

"He's what?" McGnab said, snatching the binoculars from him. He raised them to his eyes, and saw the fox had placed an origami boat down into the water. Nick MacWilde watched the boat as slowly drifted down stream in the gentle and leisurely current. The fox's brow furrowed at just _how_ slow and leisurely the current was.

"Alright, McKern," McGnab said, "I'll take up watch. You go and down to the basement and see if your brother is ready for tonight."

"Aye, McGnab," said Robert McKern, "everything should be in order."


	2. More than Meets the Eye

Cobwebs hung thick from the roof of the castle dungeons. A black-bodied fly buzzed circles around the room which was large yet cramped with crates, broken chairs and other miscellaneous junk - the dungeon being used more as a storage room these days than a torture room - at least until recently. The fly buzzed its way up to the roof which, in hindsight, it decided was not the smartest move in its career as is it became caught in one of the many spider's webs and was instantly pounced upon by an awaiting arachnid. The small fly writhed for an instant as it struggled to get free, but its body stilled as the life was sucked from it.

The heavy, iron latch of the thick door clicked open as the handle was turned. The metal-reinforced portal swung slowly open and an apprehensive, amethyst eye peeped around from outside.

Judy gazed down at the floor beneath her, assuring herself the cluttered room was devoid of life before she slipped inside, glancing over her shoulder as she slid the heavy door shut again.

Swiftly, the rabbit made her way down the stone staircase, her footfall silent as she stepped down onto the cold floor beneath. She paced towards the center of the room, her eyes flitting here and there as she tried to take in every detail worthy of note, grimacing as her eyes fell upon a selection of thumbscrews hung upon the wall. _Not the lethalest of tools,_ she noted, _but still pretty damn gruesome._

Making her way to the end of the stone basement, Hopps came to a stop before a wooden rack. Her eyes wandered across it, examining the cuffs that would hold down the feet, the strap that would secure the neck... and the handle which would tare those two extremities further apart until one was severed from the other.

A shiver ran through her small body. She told herself it was the cold but she knew full well what had really caused it. She turned about at the iron maiden upon the wall, painted to resemble a female badger in mourning. The rabbit reached up a hand. Judy's lips parted just a little. Her soft paw touched upon the rough and grainy wood and she ran her hand down across painting of the crying badger's face.

The latch cracked behind her. Judy shot around. The door swung open. No time to hide. The rabbit rushed for the entranceway and a black-furred feline stepped in.

"Hey," Robert cried, spotting her, "get out here. I'll have you!"

The feline started to rush down the staircase, towards the rabbit who was stood at the base of it. He extended his claws as he approached, raising his paw in preparation to slice open the rabbit's gut.

Judy dove to the side at the last moment as McKern reached the bottom step, his claws sweeping through empty space as Judy's leg kicked out behind her and threw the cat off balance. He stumbled and fell awkwardly, failing to regain his balance in time before the rabbit lept at him and planted both feet of a rabbit-kick in the small of his back.

Already off balance, the cat was knocked clean off his feet by the rabbit's kick and sent sprawling into a crate of old wood which collapsed under his weight. Robert hurriedly picked up a piece of the broken wood as Judy rushed towards him, swinging it through the air towards her in a bid to ward her off.

The rabbit reacted with another kick which landed squarely upon the cat's wrist, making him call out and open his palm in pain, the plank of wood effectively dealt with before any harm could be done.

McKern drew his hands close to his body defensively, resizing, as he lay on his back upon the floor, that he was clearly no match for her. The rabbit straddled his chest and glared down at him. The cat stared up at Judy's furious expression as she stepped closer to him, too afraid to so much as move to defend himself. She raised her paw, and delivered a swift punch which hit home right between the eyes, knocking the cat out cold.

Judy looked down at her handy work, considering why he decided to attack her on sight rather than find out why she was there first, when her ear sprang upright at a sound behind her.

The rabbit turned - too late - as Robert's brother, Roderick, brought his wooden truncation down upon heavily upon the rabbit's skull. The lights went out.

...

In the corridor just outside, the large front door swung open on its iron hinges and the lean frame of a red fox sauntered in from the heat of the mid-day sun, greeted by Laird Ian De'ath who was walking by at the time.

"Enjoy your walk, Mister MacWilde?" he asked.

The fox chuckled, holding up the paper boat. "Really quite amusing, thanks. How deep is your mote?" he asked, stepping past the basement door.

"Deep enough for its purpose."

The fox and badger stopped and turned at the sound of the dungeon door opening, Wilde's brow raising with concern as the figure of a rabbit stumbled out, clutching at her head.

"Miss Hopps!" Ian cried, rushing to her, "Are you alright?"

"Let me see," Nick said, stepping towards her possessively and supporting her in his arms, slowly stroking his paw across the top of her head as he gazed into her pained eyes. "Seems to be alright," he said after a moment.

"What were you doing down there anyway," Ian asked. "You have no right, not without asking me first, those dungeons are dangerous."

"I couldn't agree more," the rabbit said, dryly.

"What happened?" said Nick.

The rabbit's gaze met the fox's; her brow raised meaningfully.

"You slipped, I'd wager," Ian said, "slipped and hit your head, hey?"

"...yes," she said.

"Yes. Yes, just as I thought. Those steps are slippery as glass. MacWilde," Ian continued, "you stay and look after Miss Hopps, will ye? I'll get a key and lock this door. We don't want a repeat of this sort of thing, do we?"

The rabbit pouted at the fox, whining a little as she rubbed at her head. The fox stepped closer, putting his arms softly around the rabbit's smaller body. "Come on, Hopps," the fox said, tenderly, "you lean on me just as much as you like."

Leaning into the fox's reassuring warmth, Judy followed him as he lead her back to his room, both failing to notice the dungeon door as it inched open a tad, and the head of a dark-gray feline which poked out from within.

...

The door to Hopps' guest bedroom opened. Wilde stepped in, holding the rabbit securely in his arms as he made his way across the expensive, wood floor towards a large, four poster bed in the corner.

"Alright," Nick said as he let her down on the bed, "so what really happened?"

"I was jumped."

"Oh. Who by?"

"Didn't recognize them. Must've been the McKern's we've been hearing about."

"How'd they manage to sneak up on _you_ with _your_ hearing?"

"One came in as I was snooping about. I'd just finished him off when the other appeared behind me with a club. I was only out for a few moments, and when I woke up they were gone."

"Unhelpful of them."

"Didn't you see them leave?"

"No, I didn't see anything."

"Odd. Something else that's odd, I didn't hear the latch on the door click open when the second McKern came in."

"So?"

"So, that means he must have already been in the room when I first went in, and if he didn't go past you, should still be in there now."

"What if he'd been hiding? You wouldn't have seen him then."

"But I didn't make a sound when I went in there. He'd have had no time, no warning that he needed to hide before I appeared. Besides, who'd be fool enough to stick around hiding in there? I'd've thought their first instinct would be to run."

"You're quite sure the place was empty when you went in?"

"Nick," she said firmly, "there was no-one in that room when I went in, there is no-one in there now and, according to you, nobody left in the beef moment I was out."

"Well then, my Carrots, the answer is simple: they used a different exit."

"But there aren't any other exits!"

"How can you be so sure, Hopps? I thought old castles like this were famous for their secret doors, trick bookshelves and chandelier activated doorways."

"Huh. You've been reading too many ghost stories."

"And you're too quick to judge. Why be so dismissive of the supernatural, Hopps, when science doesn't even know-"

"Alright, look, before we change subjects drastically let me just say this. Firstly, science knows science doesn't know everything, otherwise, it would stop. And second, just because science doesn't _know_ something, it doesn't mean you can just 'fill in the blanks' with any old mythical fairytale, horse manure, pre-civilization, mumbo jumbo that takes your fancy!"

The fox blinked at the rabbit. The rabbit regained her composure.

"Was there a rack down there?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"In good racking order?"

"I didn't get the chance to find out. I wouldn't be surprised though." The fox nodded at her. "Alright, Nick," she asked, "so who was the dead frogman, the Newfoundland? I don't remember any mention of him in the mission beefing."

"Nothing to do with us," Nick said, "just a waterdog wanting to get his paws whet. Clearly somebody else thought otherwise, and decided to torture him to find out. They said the body was found three miles away, but I checked the strength of the current with my little paper boat, and there isn't nearly the strength to carry a body that distance. The body was dumped there."

"How charming," she said, glumly, "and the point of it all was~ "

Crossing the room, Nick came to the edge of the bed and sat down, close to the rabbit. "It's all to do with the price of fish," he said.

"Fish?"

"Well, you must have heard of the latest fishing crisis in these parts. The fishing industry is one of the mainstays of ergonomic life up here in the Highlands, not to mention a vital food resource for dozens of predatory species, like the brown bear, down in Zootopia."

"So what happens if it falls apart?"

"For one, it'll mean hundreds of Highland fishermammals going bankrupt and having to move out of the North, and for another, it'll mean the prices of fish will rocket, down in the Lowlands."

"But what happened to all the fish? They all just... disappeared?"

"Or have been driven away."

"But why? Surly SIS wouldn't send us here just to protect some fish. What's the point of it all?"

"Look, Hopps, the Iron Curtain between Zootopia and Zistopia is hanging by a razor's edge at the moment. With a little push in the right place it could go either way and instead of having a Cold War on our hands, we'll be a _real_ war."

"What? How's the price of _fish_ and few disgruntled _sailors_ gonna trigger open _war_!?"

"With the fish being driven away, our trawlers are having to fish in deeper, unprotected water in competition with all the other fleas... and that bites. Not everyone can compete. That means unemployment, that means a rise in the price of fish, that means hunger and starvation in the poor areas, that mans an angrier population, a more strained government and a more hostile attitude towards foreign powers. And when our, so called, 'Honorable Opponents' see we can't even afford to keep our own people fed, it might be the last little push they need to pluck up the courage to finally be out with it and attack!"

The fox paused as he allowed the information to sink in. "It may not appear it Fluff, but it really is all a _very_ delicate ecosystem. In this time of fear and unrest especially, all it takes is a little push, and the whole thing could come tumbling down."

"So if we mess this up~ "

"It'll be the end of life as we know it, yeah." The fox stood. "I hope your head feels better soon. See you at dinner, Hopps."

The rabbit stared down at the floor, not even taking in what the fox just said as the door swung shut, thinking only one simple thought. ... _and they decided their best bet was to rely on a fox and a bunny to hold back open war? We're screwed._


	3. A De'ath Wish

The dining hall was tall and wide, the walls decorated with a great number of swords, axes, halberds, polearms, shields and dozens of other medieval weapons of war. The grand dining table in the center of all was long and thin, ornately calved and flanked on all sides by chairs.

Sat at the head of the table, Ian De'ath finished his last mouthful of stew, Nick and Judy sat either side of him. McGnab approached the table and removed their plates and Angus was reciting yet more of the clan's history, Highland basket-hilted saber in paw as he spoke.

"This belonged to Houghian De'ath, the firth Laird. He was one of Wallace's men."

"Wallace?" Hopps asked.

"William Wallace," Ian answered, taking a swig of brandy, "a Highland patriot."

"Houghian De'ath and William Wallace were executed by the Lowlanders for treason in fifteen oh-four." Walking back to the wall, Angus pointed to another saber. "The sixth Laird, Charles, used this. He was with-"

Angus' history lesion continued on, but the fox was no longer listening as he looked down at his glass nonchalantly the adjusted liquid shook and rippled within. He cleared his throat softly, something Judy knew to mean 'look', and without turning her head, her gaze moved to look at him.

The fox's eyes indicated her own glass. Judy looked, and her brow furrowed. Reaching out a paw, but making it look like she was just picking up her glass, she rested her fingers lightly upon it. The glass was vibrating - so were the plates and the table, once she noticed it - but it was most noticeable for how it made the liquid in her drink shake before she picked it up and took a sip.

"-and the twelfth Laird, like all the others, was a fighter. There was a De'ath at the Battle of Stotingham, at the Battle of Badgersfield and the Battle of Bullmarsh."

"It's a proud tradition," Hopps said.

"And exploitable," Ian cut in.

"That's a harsh word."

"An honest one, I think. What interest do you - any of you - really have in this place beyond its financial potential?"

"Och, away with you," Angus said, "people are interested in the past."

"And the castle is a historical treasure trove," Judy said.

"Which could be made to sell," Ian added, "handsomely. What's your opinion, MacWilde?"

"Well, it's in my interest for the castle to do well. I want the story of Black Jamie to sell, after all."

"Och, aye. That book of yours."

"Angus was telling me Jamie betrayed the clan?"

"That's right, Hopps," Nick said, "he made a pact with the other clans and then lead his own men into a trap."

"The massacre of Black Jamie," Ian muttered, "it was a bitter day."

"And to hear you talk about it you'd think it happened last week," Angus shot, "not five hundred years ago!"

"Well he keeps the memory of it alive, doesn't he?"

"Black Jamie?" the rabbit asked.

"Aye. His treachery was uncovered, and he was bricked up in the East tower for it."

The fox's ears pricked up. "And he's still in there?"

"Since the last stone was set in place, not a living soul has entered that tower."

"But his ghost walks," Angus added, "playing the lament of Black De'ath on the bagpipes."

The rabbit chuckled. "Really? His ghost?"

"Aye, I've heard it."

The rabbit squinted, turning to Ian. "And you?"

"Aye, on occasion."

Sitting forwards, the fox opened his mouth. "It's about time we popped in for a visit, don't you think?"

"No!" Ian shot.

"He must be _very_ lonely."

"Walled up 'til doomsday was his sentence and 'til doomsday he'll stay there!"

The fox turned to the rabbit, there eyes met, and Ian retreated into a moody silence.

"Would you like to see where the last stone was set in place?" Angus asked.

"I'd love to," Judy said.

"This way, then."

"Ian," she said, "are you coming?"

"I've seen it, Miss Hopps."

"But you won't mind us," Nick said, standing, "or our curiosity."

...

Nick and Judy followed the large body of the badger down a wide corridors, between suits of amour which towered over the smaller bodies of the fox and the rabbit.

"Really quite a little armory, you got here," Nick said.

"Aye, and every bit of it bloodied. Now," he continued, coming to a wall at the end of the corridor, "the corridor used to carry on down here and you can see where it's been bricked up. They say the centerstones were the last to be put in place, and that as the last were being inserted, Black Jamie was seen on the other side playing his bagpipes."

"Good for Black Jamey," Nick said, "game until the last."

"And sometimes," the badger whispered, "at the dead of night, his ghostly piping is still to be heard."

"Well," the rabbit said, skeptically, "he can't do much harm, not bricked up behind a wall."

"But Miss Rabbit," Nick said, "the first thing a ghost learns is to walk through walls! It's part of any self-respecting ghosts basic training."

"Och, and now you're scoffing. But seriously, there is a ghost. I've heard it!"

"Well," the fox said, "he'll have to have a lot of wind in his bag to disturb me tonight. A mix of walking by the loch, the fine Highland air and good brandy have me ready for a long night's sleep in one of those lovely, gigantic beds of yours. Good-night, Angus," he said as he turned.

"See you in the morning, Mister MacWilde," Angus said as he paced away down the corridor.

The fox turned to the rabbit, his expression fond as he reached down and took up her paw in his, raising it genitally to his mouth as he lent forwards. "Good-night, Miss Judy Hopps," he said, kissing her soft paw affectionately.

"Night, Nick," she replied. Pacing down the corridor, the rabbit came to her bedroom door. She opened it, took one step in, and then turned to the fox as he made to open his own bedroom door. "See you soon."

Nick froze and turned to her as she disappeared into her room. A smile slowly grew on his muzzle. _Now... does 'soon' mean 'tomorrow', or is she telling me to-_

"MacWilde?"

Nick turned, his grin still in place. His grin froze, however, as he came face to face with the black-furred feline Judy had described to have attacked her. He forced his smile to remain natural as he replied. "Yes?"

"There be an East wind picking up. It's inclined to howl around this room, so I've taken the liberty of moving your things."

"...thank you."

"The Laird Dardly room, there."

Wordlessly, the fox crossed the corridor to the room opposite. He opened the door and stepped inside, turning back to black-furred feline who was extinguishing the candles which lit the corridor.

The fox shut the door and moved inside. The room was much too large for a mammal of his size, just like the rest of the castle was, the De'ath's being a family of badgers. He paced slowly about, checking for anything amiss before crossing to the large, four poster bed which reached all the way up to the ceiling.

Reaching forwards, the fox pulled the curtains shut before stripping down to his boxers, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping from his trousers before climbing up onto the raised bed.

Looking all about himself once more, the fox lifted up the sheets of the bed and slipped inside, allowing the thick blankets to settle back over his russet body as he closed his eyes in the darkness to sleep.

...

A full moon rose over the darkness of the Highland moors. The castle stood alone in the baron darkness, not a light present to illuminate its towering form. The corridors within were quiet and still, dark and cold in the drafty night air.

But for all silence and emptiness, a single, clear sound rang through the night air. The sound of bagpipes playing their ghostly tune, the eerie music echoing through the stone halls and ringing clearly out upon the miles of empty moors.

It rang up through the castle's stone towers and it's wide halls, down it's long corridors and into the ears of a sleeping bunny.

Judy turned over in bed, her ear picking up and her eyes beginning to open as her ears adjusted and rotated towards the door, the nose becoming clearer in her mind.

As though called to answer the ghostly tune, the rabbit stood and pulled herself from her bed. She slipped on her dressing gown over her loose nightshirt and small, black panties and pulled open the door to the corridor outside, her head poking from within as the now-clear sound of bagpipes filled her ears.

Stepping out into the cold, she pulled the door shut behind her and hurried across to Nick's room. She tapped on the door quietly, then pushed it open, concern building within her as she saw the room empty and the bed unslept in.

The rabbit rushed from the room, fearing the worst, stepping back out into the corridor and following the eerie noise of ghostly piping. The rabbit kept her body hunched low, her footfall silent, her head darting this way and that as she checked the shadows as she made her way along the corridor, down a flight of steps, and to a thick, metal-reinforced door which lead down to the basement.

The under-dressed rabbit reached out a paw to the cold metal of the latch, finding the door unlocked despite the fact she saw Ian lock it earlier. She turned the handle. The latch moved with a clank. The door swung open and the sound of bagpipes filled the air, clear as day.

Glancing over her shoulder, Judy stepped into the heavy darkness of the basement beneath, her trepidation completely eradicated by her worry for her foxy partner. She made her way quickly down the stone steps which were cold as ice beneath her bare feet, the room lit only by the light of the moon which shone through a window from outside the basement, meaning she had to keep the door open so the room was not plunged into total darkness.

Picking her way trough the broken wood and strewn metal on the floor in the dim light, she paced softly to the other end of the room, gazing into the face of the female badger painted onto the Iron Maiden. Judy didn't know why it struck her so, but that painting of the crying badger always made her heart turn chill.

The bagpipes rang on ominously. The sound was strongest in this room certainly, yet there was no viable source anywhere in sight.

Remembering Nick's question, she turned and examined the rack. Reaching out a paw, the rabbit touched the handle of the wicked device. The metal had been recently oiled. Her gaze moved along the length. The leather straps looked to be relatively new. Standing upright, Judy crossed her arms in through. Her ears raised. She turned.

Again, the image of the crying, female badger struck her. She now realized why. Apart from the feeling it gave off - of a wife who has recently lost her husband - there was also the fact... this was the source of that ghostly playing.

Stepping towards the Iron Maiden. She heaved the heavy door open. She flinched back with a startled gasp at the wall of deadly spikes which were attached to the door, but she returned her attention to the back wall.

The sound of bagpipes were stronger than ever now, almost deafening to the rabbit as she reached up a paw to the smooth, wooden surface. She stepped in a little closer into the Maiden, being careful to make sure the door didn't swung shut on her, resulting in a sudden and very bloody end.

She stepped in a little further more as she reached up a paw to run her hand along edge of the back wall of the Maiden, and then...

 _*BANG_ *****

...the door slammed shut.

The room was plunged into darkness as the door at the top of the staircase shut. She stepped out of the Iron Maiden and stumbled on a piece of broken wood in the floor in the total darkness, what little light had been let into the room now blocked by the thick door which was now shut.

The rabbit took another step and stumbled on a second piece of wood. Her ears pricking up, the rabbit froze as she heard another sound. _Click_. The sound of the door being locked from the outside.

...

In the confines of Nick's guest bedroom, the form of a fox lay in a light doze. Above him, the ceiling started to move. Guided by the bed's four posters, lowered down on four thick chains, a huge slab of stone descended silently towards the bed.

The form of the fox turned over onto his back. His nose twitched and he raised a paw from beneath the sheets to scratch it. He opened his eyes a crack.

 ** _*SLAM*_**


	4. Escape the Jaws of De'ath

Dawn broke, turning the rolling peeks and valleys of the Highlands, once again, back to their bright and merry-looking atmosphere, and the castle back to it's grand and stately demeanor.

The mote shone clearly in the early-morning sun which beamed in through the castle's windows and into the main dining hall. Upon the table of Clan De'ath, sat a bowl of thick and bitty oatmeal.

The spoon was raised to the users mouth, who grimaced as he swallowed down this rather repugnant breakfast. The spoonful was inserted into the meal a second time, but this time faltering on it's way towards the mouth, it's user, instead, just staring at the spoonful of slop, grimly.

Ian De'ath - sat at the head of the table, beside the breakfast-disliking figure, with his own bowl of sloppy oatmeal - lent towards the figure as he spoke. "Are you not enjoying your breakfast, MacWilde?"

The fox drew his attention hastily back from staring at his meal. "It's not exactly to my taste, I admit."

"So, you've noticed it to? Well you're right... there is _not_ enough salt in it."

The fox squinted at the badger as he picked up a glass salt cellar and emptied half the contender into his dish.

"That's better, much better. Now, here you are," he added, passing it to Nick, "help yourself, and take plenty of it."

The fox looked down at his plate with speculation as he dithered in pouring salt over the contents, knowing full well salt wouldn't in any way improve the overall flavor. He was just about to tip a little into his porridge, when Angus De'ath strolled into the room with a third plate of oatmeal.

"Morning Ian," he said, sitting down beside the fox, "morning MacWilde."

"Morning," Nick said, taking this excuse to rid himself of the... "some salt?"

"Och, thanks," he said, pouring the other half of the salt cellar's contents over his breakfast. The fox stared with muted wonderment as he put a large spoonful into his mouth, apparently quite enjoying it.

"Beautiful morning," Angus said.

"How would you know?" Ian replied. "Twenty-seven minutes past eight, it's nearly lunchtime. Oh, by the way," he added, finishing his porridge, "insurance. This... this Miss Hopps woman of yours: does her company cover her against accident?"

The fox's ears pricked up straight.

"Because I will not be held responsible for any accident she has here - the way she goes traipsing about the place."

"Och, Ian," Angus muttered, "you certainly work hard at this 'unsociable Highlander' business, don't you? Look, Miss Hopps is perfectly capable of looking after herself. Where is she by the way?" he added, turning to Nick.

"Oh," he said, forcing a smile, "still in her room, I'd guess. You know what rabbit's are like: burrow down into the sheets of their bed and sleep half the day away."

"Aye," Angus chuckled, "and how about yourself? Did you pass a good night?"

"Thank you, yes."

"No disturbances?" Ian asked.

Wilde turned to the badger, a charming smile in place. "None that I noticed." Ian's brow started to furrow.

"Och, I think he means our ghost. He was aboard again, last night. I heard the sound of the pipes."

"Well, foxes may be partly nocturnal, but I've always been a very heavy sleeper."

Ian sat forwards, clasping his hands before him. "But you didn't notice anything? Anything at all?"

The fox's smile grew wider. "Only the bed."

"What about it?"

"It gave me claustrophobia. I spent the night in a chair."

"Hah," Angus bellowed, "I'm sorry to hear that, pall."

"Well," Ian said, dryly, "perhaps we'll be more successful with another room."

Nick's smile fell like a brick.

"Coffey, Mister MacWilde?"

"...thank you. Did you go to the dungeon last night?"

"Aye, as a matter of fact I did. You'll remember you expressed an interest in Black Jamie's portrait? Well, I've brought him up for you to see. Come, this way."

Nick stood, deserting his meal readily, as he followed Ian towards the other end of the room. The badger lifted a large portrait from behind a desk and placed it upon an easel.

"The light isn't very good here. Flick that lamp on, will you?"

The fox turned to an electric lantern next to him and flicked the switch. "How long has this castle been on the mains?"

"It isn't," Ian said, "we have our own diesel generator down in the stables." He turned the lamp towards the portrait, and shone the light upon the face of the board-shouldered and fierce-looking badger painted upon it.

"So, this is the famous 'Black Jamie'?"

"Famous?" Ian said, "Informants more like, thank you very much. If he has to be remembered, be sure he's remembered as the traitorous scum he is, MacWilde."

"Look at those eyes," Nick said, softly, "so fierce; so independent." He chuckled. "He must've been quite a character to meet, and not one to make yourself an enemy of."

"But you didn't hear him last night?"

"No. Does he give regular concerts?"

"No, no. Sometimes we hear him three times in the one week and then don't hear him again for another month."

"Strange, isn't it? They normally operate on a regular schedule: anniversaries, full moons and such."

"No... not Black Jamie."

The fox turned back to the painting of the badger, his eyes almost alive for the flame within them. "He certainly leaves an impression," Nick said.

"Aye. Well," Ian said, turning, "if you'll excuse me, we have work to do. Come along, Angus."

Nick waited until both De'ath's had left the room before standing and leaving his disappointing porridge where it was. He checked about himself carefully before crossing out into the corridor. He had work to be doing too.

...

The basement door rattled with the sound of a key being turned in the lock. Hearing the noise, the rabbit was startled from her light slumber on her make-shift bed and she lept to her feet, eager and alert as the lock _clicked_ and the door began to swing open.

She armed herself with a long pare of heavy, iron pliers and did her best to conceal herself behind the steps of the staircase as she heard footsteps making their way down.

The figure descended the finale steps. The rabbit raised the pliers over her head. Around the banister of the staircase, the red figure of a fox stepped into view.

"Oh, _Nick,_ " Judy said, dropping her pliers and just hugging him instead, "it's you."

"Boy, Hopps," Nick said concernedly, pressing his paw against the rabbit's cheek, "you're freezing!"

"It's s-so damn _c-cold_ down here."

"Come here, then," the fox said, dropping down onto his knees and wrapping his arms tightly around her... noticing her, somewhat lacking, clothes. He grinned. "You know, you're not exactly dressed for sleeping it rough in a drafty castle dungeon."

"This might surprise you," she said tersely, stepping back from the hug and stretching her back painfully, "but it wasn't all that intentional. I was locked in. And this _thing_ ," she said, kicking the rack, "wasn't designed for sleeping on."

"So, you had about as much of a restful night as I did?"

"How do you mean?"

"They told me to sleep in a different room. I didn't understand why at first but luckily it took me a while to nod off last night, and I was awake enough to notice there, erm... little joke."

"Little joke? What are you talking about?"

"A misunderstanding was all. I mean, all they wanted to do was press my best pare of boxers..." the rabbit squinted... "while I was still wearing them."

The rabbit's eyes widened.

...

In the main hall, Ian paced down the large staircase towards the courtyard, listening wherryly to Angus who was following him close behind.

"Well, a family tree of the clan. I think it's a good idea."

"The most reasonable I've heard so far," Ian said, dismissively.

"But I've got so much more we could do, like Son et lumière."

"You mean music and colored lights," he asked, flatly.

"Well why not? If it's good enough for the palace of Hollywood House it should be good enough for us."

"And what else have you got in mind? Saturday afternoon bowls in the courtyard if it's fine? Bingo in the main hall if it's not?"

"Exactly. The through had crossed my mind."

"Well you can forget it! As long as I'm the Laird, the public will stay outside of Castle De'ath."

Angus opened his mouth to retort, but Ian had had already turned and marched away down the corridor, leaving the badger to stare after him as he went.

...

The fox stepped from the basement, checking around him before pushing the door open and ushering the rabbit out.

"So what now," she asked quietly as they made towards the bedrooms.

"Well, for a start, we get you changed into something more sensible. Not that I see anything wrong with this," he added, smoothly.

"I mean after that," the rabbit said, pulling her gown just a little tighter around herself as she tried to keep as much of her privacy covered as possible. "I'm guessing things aren't too safe or us around here anymore."

The fox pushed the door open for the rabbit and she slipped in side, the fox following her into her bedroom and shutting the door behind. "No. You locked up all night, me destined to be made into burger meat, I think we've been rumbled."

"So what have you got in mind?" she said, slipping out of her gown.

"Some research, for you," he said, his head tilting and a small smile at the rabbits state of undress - wearing just her panties and a bra - before stepping behind a wall divider with a heavy blush to undress further.

"Anything in particular?" she asked, snapping him from his trance.

"The history of the castle. See if you can get some kind of original blueprints. I want to know exactly how many entrances to the East tower were blocked up when he was sent away."

"Why?"

"I think there's more behind these walls than just a ghost."

"Well, I'll see what I can find," she said, stepping out as she adjusted her fresh shirt and trousers. "And what are you going to do?"

He glanced to her, smiling. "I'm going fishing."

The rabbit turned to the fox sharply. "You mean while I'm sat about revising, you'll be off relaxing, fishing in the loch?"

"No. Not in the loch... in the mote."

Judy gazed at him, her brow furrowed. "But... there _are_ no fish in the lock?"


	5. Acquaintance Part

In the cool castle study, Ian Death stood lent against a table, pen in hand as he jotted down various sums of money, his eyes sharp and his face a grimace of stress.

The towering form of the badger McGnab entered into the room and passed over to the Laird smartly, crossing his hands behind his back as he addressed him. "How much longer will they be staying, Mister Ian?" he asked, sternly.

Ian's head rose slowly. "You'll have to ask cousin, Angus," he said, bitterly, "they're his guests, Mister McGnab."

"We're short on money enough as it is," McGnab commented, "we cannae afford to have guests stay like this and keep the castle in working order too."

"You think I don't know that?" Ian shot over his shoulder.

McGnab opened his mouth, but then the figure of a red fox paced in through the door, making towards the open front door. "Morning," he said, smiling leisurely as he paced in, his russet fir lit warmly by the sun. "Beautiful day, ain't it? Couldn't resist a little fishing."

McGnab stood to block his path. "Have you finished making your notes?" he said, asking how much longer the fox was planning to stay for with about the subtlety of a hammer.

"Got it in my satchel," Wilde replied, slipping past the tall badger with foxy agility, not even needing to slow as he passed by. "I'll refer to it between bights."

The red fox walked smoothly from the room, not pausing to engage with either Ian or McGnab as he paced out through the front door with a fishing rod over his shoulder and a large, wicker bag tucked beneath his arm; the two badgers watching him grimly as he paced away.

The fox's smile fell as soon as his back was turned to them, the image he had woken up to - of a giant slab of rock descending towards him to crush him beneath its weight - still very much in the forefront in his mind.

Stepping out into the castle courtyard, he breathed the warm yet crisp Highland air, allowing his lungs to fill with the clenching breath. A genuine smile crossed his muzzle as he paced along the courtyard towards the mote. _Well, the Highlands may not have all the fancy amenities and luxury items as the city has,_ he pondered, _but the air sure is a heck of a lot cleaner._

He passed the outer gate, under the portcullis, and began to make his way down the soaping hill towards the mote which was lined on both sides by clumps of rushes and other shrubs and bushes. As he approached, the fox turned to admire the splendor of the castle. At least... that was the impression he wished to give. In truth, his was judging where behind these rushes he would need to sit, to be out of sight from a pare of binoculars tracking his movements.

He couldn't see the mammal and the binoculars themselves were to far away to be seen. What did have, however, was the glint of the sunlight reflecting off the lens, and the whits to know what that glint more than likely was.

He crossed to stand directly before the edge of the mote and began to set down his things, laying a blanket on the floor and sitting down behind the rushes.

Some meters away, the figure of a feline, Robert, tutted and huffed as the fox disappeared from view, lowering his binoculars as he moved from side to side as he sought for a way to put the fox back in his line of sight again.

Sat upon the green grass below, the fox glanced around his surroundings once more before opening his large, wicker basket. He smiled down at the contents. "Fishing indeed," he muttered, chuckling as he lifted out an aqualung and fox-sized breathing mask.

...

Out of the heat of day, in the gray light which shone through the tall windows, the small figures of a young rabbit sat upon a hard wooden chair beside a desk which was too tall for her, flicking through a thick book which was too big for her paws.

She turned another page, her amethyst eyes lingering on a basic diagram of the floor plans for the East Tower - the tower which had been bricked up with Black Jamie walled within it; the tower which appeared to be the source of that inexplicable bagpipe playing.

"How is it connected?" she muttered softly to herself, leaning back in the chair as she sought for an answer. "How does a long-dead Laird and some bagpipe playing connect to the disappearance of fish throughout the Highlands?"

The figure of Ian Death emerged from behind her. "Getting on well with your research, Miss Hopps?"

"Oh, err," she said quickly, turning the page away from the plans to the East tower. "Yeah, I'm just trying to get more of an idea of the history of this place. Have there been any major battles here at all?"

Ian considered for a moment. "There were one or two scraps here back in the Middle Ages - you know, before warrant prey united - but not anything enough to warrant any real interest from military historians."

"I see. Any famous people connected to this place? I heard the old Prince back then asked Laird William Wa-"

"Wild Willie," Ian cut in, his pride such as you might bounce rocks from it. "The rising of the clans was planned in the main hall here, and Wild Willie persuaded mammals who had been mortal enemies to sit side-by-side around that table over there. He brought them together to serve the pretender."

The rabbit raised a paw to her chin. "Now, if that moment were recreated."

"With dummies?"

"In traditional costume."

"It would be a moneymaker, hey Miss Hopps?"

"I was about to say it would be a moment in history everyone could share, thanks to you."

Ian snorted at her, an edge of contempt to his voice. "Like that's the real reason."

"And what does that mean?"

"You may sit here and talk about the honor and glory of clan De'ath, but when you get right down to the matter all you care about is how it might be best exploited. How can you possibly know what this means to me; what this castle means to me?"

"A castle which just happens to be on the verge of falling apart," she added, slyly.

"Young lady, do you have any idea how much it will cost to put all this into order? All this talk of moddels and dummies, recreations of the past and damned Son et lumière."

"I think it'd be worth it."

"And I think it'd be a waste of expense. The castle is already in need of heavy refurbishment work just to keep it together, and I am in no position to waste yet more money on frivolous experiences, just to make the place look pretty for the public eye."

Hopps looked at him, flatly. "And how do you expect to pay for all this refurbishment work if not by opening up to the public?"

The badger crossed his arms, slowly, turning and gazing off to the side. "I happen to have a small iron foundry in Edinburgh."

Judy's eyebrows raised. "I didn't know that."

"Well you do now, and I spend a great deal of my time there."

"And Angus De'ath is in Glasgow?"

"That's right."

"So who manages the castle?"

Ian turned back. "McGnab, with the McKern's... but McGnab's in charge."

...

Directly above the pare, on the roof outside, Robbert McKern gazed out towards where he could just about see the figure of Nick Wilde fishing. Behind him, the tall form of a badger approached.

"He's fishing in the mote, is he?" McGnab asked.

"Aye, take a look."

The badger took the binoculars and gazed down where Robert had been looking. "Well, I cannae see him."

"No, he's sat behind the rushes, but if you look carefully you can just see the point of his rod."

"Oh aye, I've got him," he said, gazing down at the point of a fishing rood he could see through the lens, keeping check of the bush the fox was assumedly behind. "Keep a close watch, Robbert. The Chief's gonna deal with him as soon as possible."

...

Below, in the library, Judy Hopps sat hunched over a map of the castle grounds. After Ian had left her, she had dug out a more comprehensive version of the floor plans and was now examining it closely.

Her brow furrowed as an idea slowly crawled into her mind. Returning to the bookshelf, she pulled another map out she had glimpsed earlier: a map of the dungeon. Placing it beside the larger map, she examined the dungeon against the layout of the East tower minutely.

She stood bolt upright as a thought struck her. Working sharply, she snapped closed her book and replaced it back on the shelf, folding the map and stowing it in her pocket, taking her pencil as she darted for the door.

She made her way down the corridor towards the dungeon, remembering how clearly the sound of bagpipe playing had been near the Iron Maiden that night - a fact she had all but forgotten until she spotted the narrow corridor which lead from the East Wing to that very same spot in the dungeons on the map she had examined.

Checking about herself, the rabbit crossed to the heavy, iron door to the basement and made to open the latch. It stuck. The door was locked. The rabbit frowned as she lowered herself onto her knees before the keyhole.

Now, Judy had learnt many things since being recruited by the SIS, one of them being that picking a lock was not merely a matter of jostling a paperclip in a lock for a couple of seconds as it was in the films. It took time, patience, practice, a high amount of dexterity and no small amount of technical understanding. Fortunately the lock on this door was about as old as the rest of the castle, and the rabbit picked it practically instantly with the butt end of her pencil.

Grinning as the latch cracked, she slid the door open and stepped inside. Checking about herself as she made her way down the slippery staircase, she checked she was completely alone this time. Reaching the cold ground at the base of the staircase, she walked directly towards the Iron Maiden against the far wall and examined the face of the crying, female badger painted upon it.

Easing back the door gradually, the rabbit examined the wall of large, pointed spikes which came out to greet her. The spikes were all on the door, she noticed, with none at all on the back.

She stepped a little further in, being very careful to make sure she had a firm hold on the door as it was weighted and tried to swing closed upon her - ending in a very sudden and very messy end.

She leaned in closer still to the back wall. Was that a hairline crack running up it? The rabbit reached out a paw softly and touched it upon the old wood. She traced her paw down the smooth crack, touching it delicately as she felt the line which ran all the way from the top to the floor.

Her ear sprang up light a lightning bolt as the door swung suddenly open and she heard the sound of a large badger entering the room.

"Robbert," she heard him cry, "get down here!"

She heard heavy footsteps descending the steps. She had to hide, but the only place she could reach in time was inside the Iron Maiden.

"Robbert!" McGnab cried again.

"Aye, McGnab?" Judy heard from the feline, panting heavily after running down from the roof.

Slipping inside the tall, wooden container, Judy pulled the heavy door closed just a little, just enough so that she wouldn't be spotted straight away if they came down.

"I thought I told you to lock this door!"

"I did, sir," Robber said, coming nearer.

Judy pulled the shut a little more until the door was only a crack open. Judy heard her breath, wincing at a number of sharp, pinpricks of pain across her body at the spikes which rested lightly upon her, her arms straining to hold the door perfectly still.

"Well it was not locked just now," storming close to the Maiden, "explain that!"

"Well, sir, I ~"

Backing fearfully against the wall as the voices approached, Judy's foot slipped on the wood. She lost her grip on the door, and it fell back upon her with a _**SLAM**_. _  
_

McGnab and Robbert McKern froze.

"Did you hear that?" McGnab said."

"Aye, sir, I did."

McGnab came closer to the Maiden; a paw reached out.

"McGnab, McGnab!" shouted Roderick McKern - Robbert's brother - as he burst into the room.

"What is it," McGnab demanded, turning from the Maiden.

"There's something in the mote."

"What do you mean there's something in the mote?"

"There's a distinct blip on the radar."

"Have you told the Chief?" asked Robbert.

"No, not yet," Roderick replied.

"Robert," McGnab said, turning to the other McKern, "you're sure MacWilde is still fishing in the mote?"

"Och," Robert said, "Wilde hasnae moved; probably dozed off."

"Right. Roderick, you get back to control. I'll tell the Chief and check on McWilde."

With that, Roderick and Robert hastened from the room. McGnab turned back to the Iron Maiden and gazed at it mistrustfully for a few moments... then turned likewise and followed suit.

...

Judy lay there - panting, panicked - as she tried to figure out why she wasn't dead. She sat upright slowly from lying flat on the floor, and gazed at the doorway in front of her.

Her breaths gasping, her heart rate rapid, she stood up shakily - _very_ shakily - and gazed at the line of long, sharp spikes she should have been impaled upon. Then she looked upon the false back of the Iron Maiden which had opened up as she fell against it, allowing her to fall straight through the back into wherever it was she found herself now.

She turned and looked at the room. It was mostly bare but for a few crates, so she walked stealthily towards an unusually modern-looking door in the corner and opened it a crack. It was then when she realized exactly where she was: inside the apparently bricked-up East Wing.

She looked through the crack in the door and gazed upon a line of large, diesel generators. She pushed the door open a little more, checking the room was empty before she stepped inside.

The air was thick and greasy with the smell of the diesel, thick with the acrid fumes. She turned around slowly, listening to the dull hum of the generators. "Geez," she breathed out loud. _There's gotta be enough generators in here to power a street! Wounder what all that power's being used for. I gotta tell Nick._

She turned swiftly and made back the way she came in. Carefully pushing the front of the Iron Maiden open and pulling the false back closed behind her, she darted swiftly across the dungeon floor, up the stares and pulled the door to the main corridor open a crack.

Wincing, the rabbit pulled the door closed again swiftly as the figure of McGnab walked straight past. Listening carefully, the rabbit waited as she heard him pace away up the staircase before slipping out.

Watching the badger as his feet disappeared up the steps, the rabbit considered her next step swiftly. She had to tell Nick they were onto him, whatever he was doing, but she also knew McGnab was now about to pay a visit to this, so called, 'Chief... and that knowing the identity of whoever was in charge here would be an enormous help.

Coming to a decision, she turned away from the front door and made quickly up the stares in persuade of the large form of McGnab.

She caught up enough for him to be in her sight just as he turned a corner. Judy knew that corridor: it was the one which used to lead towards the East Tower which had been blocked off; the one Angus had shown them after dinner the previous night. It was also the corridor which lead to the the rooms she and Nick had slept in.

The rabbit waited a moment longer at the turn of the corridor as she heard McGnab's footsteps disappear. She turned the corner and saw... nothing but empty space.

Her brow furrowing in confusion, she paced towards the spare guest room - the one Nick had slept in the first night - and found the room empty but for the bed. She checked in her room, then in Nick's, and it was the same story in each: no sign of the badger McGnab.

Absentmindedly, Judy paced back into the corridor as she thought, almost walking into Angus De'ath as he rounded the corner toads her.

"Och, sorry," he said, quickly.

"Oh, don't worry," Hopps replied, "I was just looking for someone."

"Mister McWilde?"

"Yes. Have you seen him?"

"Not since breakfast. I'll keep an eye out, though, and tell him you were looking."

"Thanks," Hopps said, smiling pleasantly as she paced back around the corner and down the staircase; the pleasant smile dropping the instant she was alone again.

...

Outside the castle walls, in amongst the weeds, bushes and shrubs, on the side of the bank where mote met earth, the figure of Nick Wilde emerged from below the water's surface.

Striped naked apart for his boxers, a breathing mask and an aqualung which was strapped across his back, the fox started to climb the slippery, muddy bank to get up on to dry land. As he did this, the towering frame of the badger McGnab rounded the hedges and saw him.

They both froze.

McGnab approached. Wilde rushed to try and stand but slipped upon the mud in his haste and fell again. On all fours, the fox made to bolt, but McGnab leaped for him and threw him to the ground.

Wilde struggled, but the weight of the hefty badger kept him pinned helpless to the floor as the badger knelled down upon him, taring the breathing tube away from Nick's mask and holding his large paw firmly upon the breathing apparatus. All happened in but a second and now, with the air no longer able to circulate, the visor of Wilde's breathing mask started to steam up, the fox suffocating within.

Desperate now, Nick drew his arm back, put his paw into a fist, and punched McGnab in the gut. The first punch hit hard, but it wasn't enough, and every punch thereafter had less and less strength behind at as the fox's air ran out - until the last - which faltered and failed to hit the badger at all.

Standing, the large frame of McGnab watched the limp body of the fox for a moment longer, grimaced as he threw the unconscious body of the fox across his shoulder, turning, and walking back towards the castle grounds.

...

Back inside, Judy hurried about from room to room, starting to seriously worry for her partner's health. She rounded the corner in the main hall and came face to face with a badger and the rabbit jerked to a halt.

"Miss Hopps," Ian said.

"Oh, erm... yes Ian?"

"Miss Hopps, I have come to a decision about the future of castle De'ath."

"...well?"

"Under no circumstance am I willing to allow this castle to be opened to the public."

"Oh, but-"

"The decision is made, Miss Hopps, so there's no point in any further discussion."

The rabbit paused. "I see."

"I think, to save any embarrassment, it would be best if you could leave Castle De'ath."

"What, now?"

"As soon as is convenient."

"I'll pack my things." She turned towards the guest bedrooms.

"Miss Hopps," Ian said, stopping her, "I do apologize for my apparent rudeness."

Judy stopped for a moment - "It's alright, I quite understand." - before pacing away down the corridor.

Ian watch as she disappeared out of sight, drawing in a long, slow breath. "...do you?"


	6. Friends Unite

The heavy blackness started to clear. The fog which hung over the fox's vision started to wain as he came to. Opening his eyes weekly, Nicholas Wilde blinked as he tried to shift the dots in his vision. He could hear machines whirring in the background; the air was thick with the heavy scent of diesel.

Shaking himself into awareness, he tried to sit up, finding himself lying on his back on what felt like a cold, concrete floor - apparently dry and re-dressed as he lay upon the floor.

Starting to sit forwards, the blurs his vision cleared further as he gazed ahead of himself. One black blur in the center of his vision cleared... and became the muzzle of a handgun pointing directly at his head.

Panic and adrenaline coursing suddenly through him, his senses were kicked into overdrive. He took in his surroundings - walls of computer panels, pressure gauges and diesel generators with monitor on the walls. The gun was held by Robert McKern, who stood flanked by Roderick who sat at what appeared to be the main control panel.

Roderick sat forwards. "Nice to have you back with us," he said, "Mister MacWilde."

Focusing his vision past the form of Roderick, the fox gazed upon a computer monitor which, on its screen, depicted the CCTV footage of a small, one-mammal submarine being ushered out of an underwater pen.

...

The warm sun shone outside as it started to fall once again down the sky. Out through the front door, the figure of a rabbit marched from within and towards a rabbit-sized car waiting in the drive.

Opening the door, she threw in her large suitcase sharply and stepped inside, slamming the door shut and clanking the car into ignition before pulling back and down the drive.

Angus De'ath entered through the main gait at the opposite end of the courtyard, a smile growing on his face as the rabbit drove up to him. "Och, good-day to you, Miss Hop-" ...a smile which slowly fell as the car drove directly past; the rabbit not even glancing to him as she went, her face an expression of tight fury.

Watching with bewilderment as the car pulled away out of sight, Angus turned back towards the castle and made his way on.

...

Inside the main hall, Ian Death and McGnab stood by the large castle fireplace and conferred quietly between one another. The front door opened. Angus stepped in.

"Was that Miss Hopps I just saw driving out of here?"

"Aye," said Ian, "it was."

"When will she be back?"

"She's not."

"What do you mean 'she's not'?"

"I mean she's left."

Angus started back. "She's left?"

"I _asked_ her to go."

"...you did what?"  
 **  
**"I made it plain to her that I had no intention of making this place a funfair and that she was wasting her time here."

Angus blinked at him, bewilderment starting to shift to anger. "Now who do you think you are?"

"The Laird! And it's about time you remembered that."

"Now just a minute, Ian-"

"That's enough! Now, I don't want to discuss it any further."

"But what about the castle, she's falling apart!"

"We'll manage, as the De'ath's always have."

...

In the control room, Nick listened carefully to all the information he could hear, watching the two McKern brothers. One, Roderick, stood operating what appeared to be the main control panel, overseeing the small submarine on the screen as it made its way slowly out. And the other, Robert, who stood just watching him.

"I'll never ken how you work that thing," Robert said.

"That's why McGnab has you on lookout rather then helping me down here," Roderick said. "You don't have to understand, just make sure you don't touch anything. Especially this big red one here."

"What, this big red button?" he said, pointing to a large button on the control panel.

"Aye. They open the seacocks and flood the pen."

"Oh," said Robert, leaning in for a closer look - Roderick holding out an arm to block him, fixing him with a stern stair before crossing the room, sitting at a desk and taking up a pen with which he began scratching out a number of calculations upon a notepad.

Nick grimaced in Roderick's general direction as the feline nodded a head towards him. "Has the Chief said what he's going to do with MacWilde?"

"He hasnae said."

"He's a diver. We could always have another accident."

"So soon after the lat one? No, but there will be some sort of mishap. One way or another," he continued, turning to Nick slowly, "when they go tonight, so will MacWilde."

Nick held Robert's gaze firmly, unimposing though he looked sat upon the hard castle floor with both paws cuffed to the wall behind him on long, iron chains.

"Robert," Roderick said, "stop gawping and go guard the entrance into here. You know how McGnab feels about keeping the passage to the Iron Maiden guarded now. We don't want any interference should Miss Hopps come back."

"Miss Hopps? Och, she's long gone."

"Don't argue, just do it!"

"Ach, alright," Robert said as he began pacing from the room, "but watch MacWilde. He's a slippery creature if ever I saw one."

"Away with you. What can he do chained up?"

Robert paused in the doorway for a moment and watched Nick mistrustfully, but said nothing before waling away.

Nick's gaze remained fixed on the empty door frame a moment longer as he made sure Robert McKern wasn't coming back. Once sure, his gaze rose and he examined the leather strap his paws were bound in. Checking that Roderick was busy with calculations, he started slowly to twist his hand back and forth, gradually stretching the leather strap a little larger and larger with every twist.

It would take time - probably more than he had - but he had to give it a shot.

...

Some hours later - in the darkness which had fallen upon the Highland Moors (a kind of heavy, primeval darkness which you could only get out here in the Highlands) - a slim, feline silhouette appeared on the horizon.

Jogging silently, the distant figure crossed the uneven moors swiftly, almost bounding in the shadows and the darkness.

Reaching the edge of the old, gravel road which lead up to the keep's outer gate, the figure dropped down onto all fours, stopping dead and checking alertly all about herself before smoothly crawling the rest of the distance to the front gate.

Creeping forwards, slipping just inside the castle courtyard, she scanned the square of castle walls with her quick, amethyst eyes. Confident she would not be instantly spotted by anyone, she suddenly exploded into motion, sprinting with incredible speed across the long courtyard towards the door to the main keep itself.

The female paused just outside the door for a few moments, breathing deeply after her sprint. She may have been in perfect shape, but anyone would need a moment to recover after running at those speeds.

After a pause, she edged the door open a crack, her large ears positioned to pick up the slightest sound before she edged herself in and shut the door with a soft click behind her.

Creeping forwards again, the rabbit's raised ears suddenly sprang up at the sound of footsteps approaching her. Having changed from her casuialwear into a sleek, full-body catsuit, the rabbit slipped easily into the darkness of a shadow, concealed by the black, leather outfit.

From around the corner, the large frame of the badger McGnab appeared and marched through towards the castle dining room, his face a low grimace of displeasure.

Ian De'ath stepped to intercept him, coming out of the dining room just before McGnab entered.

"I'm going out for a walk," Ian said. "How long will supper be, McGnab?"

"About fifteen minutes, sir."

"Right. Won't be long."

McGnab nodding, he stepped into the dining room and pulled the door shut behind him. Ian paced the opposite way towards the front door the rabbit had just came in through, passing hardly a foot away from her before stepping past.

The rabbit breathed deeply in relief as the front door swing shut with Ian on the other side, fully aware if he had decided to go for a walk but a few moments earlier, he would have caught her sprinting across the courtyard.

But with the scene now clear, stepping further in, she darted swiftly towards the door to the dungeons. Undoing a little of the long zipper which ran all the way down her chest, she reached for a pocket inside, taking out the pencil she had used to pick the dungeon lock earlier, picked it again, and opened the door.

Again, her head peeped around the door frame first before she slipped inside and pulled the door closed again. She headed down the slippery stone steps brusquely and crossed directly to the Iron Maiden in the corner.

Pulling it open, she managed to resist the urge to start back from the wall of spikes this time, before slipping into the capsule and edging the false back open gradually, peering out into the corridor behind it. She took half a step in, then froze.

On his back upon a number of waist-high crates, Robert McKern lay relaxing on his back as though the crates were a bed. It wasn't Robert's presence which alarmed the rabbit per sae... it was the efficient-looking rifle beside him that worried her.

The rabbit moved forwards a step. Robert appeared not to notice, his hands up behind his head as he daydreamed. Judy took another step. Again, Robert did nothing. Down low on all fours, she crept close to the daydreaming feline until she was right beside him and then, with sudden force, the rabbit stood and threw her weight into tilting the large crates, tipping the McKern down to the ground.

He rose unsteadily onto one knee, glaring at the rabbit, holding the pain in his head as his gaze quickly swept the floor for his mislaid rifle. Spotting it, the feline made a swift grab for it - but the rabbit was swifter - and kicked out his knee from beneath him, sending him sprawling back onto the floor before she sent the rifle clattering across the floor with another kick.

Judy made to straddle his waste as she had done earlier. Recognizing this position, Robert rolled quickly and used his momentum to stand. He faced the rabbit, his stance firm.

Judy slid into a low stance, her paws raised and her knees bent in preparation to strike the moment the time was right. The rabbit waited. The moment came.

The feline thew out a paw in a horizontal slice towards the rabbit. Judy ducked swiftly beneath the swinging claws and stepped in close, bring an elbow sharply up into the larger mammals chest in a single, swift motion.

Wincing, McKern recoiled a step and made a blind swing with his paw. Catching his arm by the wrist, the rabbit viciously twisted his arm the opposite direction it was supposed to go, sending the feline down to his knees as he called out in surprise - a cry of surprise which was cut short as Judy stepped in again and delivered a swift uppercut to the creatures chin.

His head drew back sharply into the hard wall behind him, Robert teetered on his faltering knees for all but a moment before, gradually, sliding silently down the wall.

Judy turned and checked the entrance ways into the room. The fight hadn't been a long one, but someone was likely to have heard it. Spotting the felines rifle, Judy crossed the room briskly picked it up from the floor.

The weapon was the old-style carbine rifle, several years past its prime. She checked the barrel and found it clean and loaded: the gun most definitely worked. She armed herself with it. It was two feet too large and not really her style, but she couldn't just leave it lying about, _and besides_ , she thought, remembering her absent partner, _it might come in useful._


	7. The Building Stakes

The castle's dining hall was warmly lit by a large, open fire. The curtains were draw shut and the table was lain. The two De'ath's, Ian and Angus, sat either end of the large, wooden table, and McGnab stood sternly beside the fireplace, warming himself against the otherwise chill air of the drafty castle.

"McGnab," said Ian, "more scotch."

The tall frame of McGnab - by far the largest badger of the three - paced directly towards Ian Dea'th, picked up a decanter, and poured a healthy glass of pungent-smelling alcohol into the Laird's glass.

Picking it up, Ian's gaze turned shiftily towards Angus. "Would it be improper to enquire as to where your friend, MacWilde, is?"

Angus set down his fork, sending a look of suspicion towards his Laird. "I have no idea," he said. "In fact, I thought you might know."

"Well, I don't."

...

...

Forty feet below, in a clinically clean and whitewashed room - a harsh juxtaposition from the dirty, crumbling stone of the rest of the castle - a rack of computers and control panels whirred busilley. Their controller, Roderick McKern, unhurriedly moving from one set of controls to another, regally checking the monitor display of the row of small, one-mammal submarines.

Against a wall, his arms chained to the wall by leather straps at the wrist, the figure of a red fox sat idle as the feline moved about the room.

"Any chance of you letting me out of these things?" Nick said.

"Hah. Not a chance in Hell, fox."

"But it's not healthy to be sat on a hard floor like this. I'll get rumertisum, or piles or something.

"Piles will be the least of your worries," Roderick said, crossing to a telephone on the desk. He picked it up and said: "Robert, are you there? You keeping guard of the entrance? Is McGnab on his way yet? Robert?" The feline set the phone down with a grunt. "Properly gone out for a smoke."

"Then it looks like it's just you and me," Nick said. "Better watch out"

Roderick snickered. "Well, Mister MacWilde, I can't see how you'll give me much trouble."

"If you're quite sure..." Nick's gaze turned, looking upwards at his paw, still twisting it back and forth, gradually loosening and loosening the leather cuff around his wrist. "...don't forget what your brother told you: we foxes can be quite tricky."

Not even bothering to look up, the feline at the controls started chuckling. "Oh, really MacWilde, in this state, the only risk you are to me, is making me laugh myself to death!"

...

...

Loading the last of the empty plates onto a trolley, McGnab turned and addressed Ian, the Laird of Castle De'ath. "Is there anything else you wish, Mister Ian?" he said.

"No," Ian sighed, setting his empty glass down on the empty table, "no, McGnab, you go to your bed."

"Thank you, Mister Ian."

"Goodnight, McGnab."

Angus watched silently as McGnab paced out of the room. He turned back to the Laird and spoke, bitterly. "Are you really determined?"

"Aye," said Ian.

"Och, you're a fool."

"You'd call that of anymammal who'd turn down money."

"It's there for the asking!"

Ian smiled as he gazed into his glass. "You seem to forget I have a tradition to uphold."

"Och, your granny, 'you have a tradition to uphold', have you?"

Ian's gaze rose, sharply. "And I'll not have you or anybody flog it at the market."

"You're pompous!" shouted Angus.

"And you're greedy!" shot back Ian.

"Aye, I'll admit I have a liking for money, but that can't be it. What's the matter with you, Ian? Are you scared that a little bit of money'll taint you?" A smug grin grew on the badger's face. "Or is there some _other_ skeleton in the closet?"

Ian stood. "And what do you mean by that?"

Angus stood. "Exactly what I say," he said, marching towards him. "What's the matter, Ian? Why are you so frightened of people coming in here-"

 _"Shut up!"_

"What are you hiding?"

"That's **_enough_** _!_ " Ian breathed deeply. "When I get back," he said, slowly, "I will expect you to have left Castle De'ath."

Angus chuckled. "Och, you can push little, bright-eyed bunnies around, but don't try it with me."

"Angus," Ian said, coldly, "I mean what I say. Get out of here."

The badger's expression falling, Angus watched as Ian marched from the room, not saying a single word more. The door opened; the door closed. Angus finished his scotch, then hurtled the glass against the far wall, smashing it to pieces.

...

...

In the control room beneath the castle, the feline, Roderick, glanced up at the clock.

"It's almost time, MacWilde," he said to the fox behind him, "in thirty minutes, the submarines will be sent out into the open waters. And you'll be dragged out with them... _without_ a breathing mask, I might add. I'd better alert the crew." Stretching forwards, the feline flipped a switch. Nothing happened.

"Did that do anything?" Nick said.

"Aye," said Roberten, "it lit up the alert signs in the crewmammals quarters. They'll be suiting up as we speak."

"Crew? How may crewmammals do you have down here?"

"About twelve, I suppose."

"And the De'ath's don't know they're there?"

"One of them knows, of course; he's our chief."

"And the other?"

"Hasnae got a clue."

"So," the fox said, mildly," which De'ath is in charge here anyway?"

"Nice try, Wilde."

Nick smiled. "I suppose that's the thing with these old castles, so many vaults and secret-" Wilde trailed off suddenly. Staying quite still, his ears turned pricked up towards the door. Then, the smallest of smiles crossed his muzzle. "Aah, bless her."

"What?" Roderick said, standing suddenly, "Bless who?"

"The rabbit just outside the door."

There was a clatter from outside. Snatching up his handgun, Roderick bolted to the door, threw it open and made to dash out... then stopped as though he had hit a brick wall, coming face-to-face with the muzzle of a carbine rifle.

"Back against the wall," said Judy in a harsh and cold voice her family would be surprised to know she could muster. "Drop the gun, and don't try anything brave."

The feline obeyed and dropped the gun to the floor - Nick doubted Roderick would have argued with _that_ voice, even if she wasn't armed - and proceeded to back slowly against the wall.

Hopps pointed to a piece of metal on the desk with the end of the gun. "The keys, throw them over."

Again, McKern obeyed. The keys landed with a clink on the floor between the two of them, and Judy stepped fully into the room.

Nick tried to resist, spluttering uncontrollably for a few second before bursting out into laughter.

Somewhat confused as to this reaction, both the rabbit and the feline slowly turned to the fox. They turned back to each other. The feline raised a brow questioningly at the rabbit; the rabbit shrugged in return.

"Carrots," he said, barely mannaging to talk through the laughter, "you look like a little toy solder with that thing!"

Judy's gaze turned slowly towards the fox.

"You know what," he continued, still chuckling, missing the rabbit's deadly expression, "you actually look adorable right now. That gun is _way_ too big for you; it makes you look so tiny and cu-"

"Well if that's how you feel, what do you say I leave you locked up in here?"

"Wait, Hopps!" he shouted as she started to pace from the room, "I didn't mean it!"

Judy turned back in and kick the keys toward the fox, keeping the gun at least loosely trained on the feline against the wall.

Nick slid his tail into the large ring the keys were kept on and raised them to his paw. He dropped them into his hands, and freed himself from the leather cuffs. He stood, rubbing at his wrists, still trying not to laugh just a little.

Judy relented in her harshness just a little, accepting she was happy just to see him alive. Still keeping her gun mostly trained on the feline, Judy moved and stood beside the red fox, leaning into his body a little, happy just to feel his warmth and smell his scent. Sighing contentedly, Judy allowed herself this brief moment of respite, and Nick wrapped his soft tail around her waist in return, smiling fondly.

"Come on, Carrots," Nick said, "let's get back to work before we get detracted."

"Alright," Hopps said, stepping sadly away, "what now, we stand guard here?"

"Depends. When Roderick here tried to phone his brother he couldn't get through. Was he out having a smoke as Roderick said?"

"No. That, was me."

"In that case, when he comes round he's going to want to let somemammal know what's happened. If he tells whichever De'ath is in charge, he could flee, and it'll take a long time to track him down."

"So what do you want me to do," Hopps said, "go back up and confront the De'ath's?"

"Take Roderick's handgun; I'll take the rifle before you trip yourself up. I'll keep things under control down here - from what I hear McGnab'll be down soon - and you go and get things under control upstairs. Think you can handle that?"

"Yeah, should be easy enough. You gonna be okay?"

"Don't worry about me, Fluff," he said, taking the rifle and getting a feel for the weight, "I'll be just fine."

Judy nodded, slipped the handgun into her pocket, and started to pace from the room. She stopped in the doorway and turned back towards the fox with a look of worry in her eyes.

Pacing quickly back toward him, the rabbit took hold of the fox's collar, pulled his head down level with her's, and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Be careful," she said, softly, "we have far too many near-misses in this job; I'd hate to think what I'd do if anything were to happen to you."

Nick slipped his arm around the rabbit. "Carrots," he said, "you and I are at the top of our games. We've had over ten years experience since our first case together with Bellwether; we've come a long way since then - and in a lot of different ways together- so if there's anyone who's most qualified to deal with this situations... it's us."

Sighing, the rabbit nodded, reasserted her control, stepped back from the fox, and paced, again, from the room.


	8. A Date with De'ath

**Just to inform you, this is the concluding chapter of this story. There will, however, be one final chapter after this one, just to wrap everything up, give credit to the original creators and explain anything that might be ambiguous in the reader's mind. Let me know if you have any outstanding questions as to the plot and I'll do my best to answer it.** _**Mister Smail.**_

* * *

The sun touched down upon the horizon; the Laird of Castle De'ath paced slowly across the empty miles of marshland and moor around the castle grounds.

Coming to a stop before the edge of the loch, Ian stopped and gazed down into the clear waters. He never saw fish in these parts anymore. He remembered, when he was a cub, diving into this lake with his father, catching and eating the raw fish.

Signing bitterly, he bent down and picked up a pawful of stones. Nowadays, he rarely ever saw one fish, his father had passed on, and he couldn't bare the company of cousin a day more - leaving him the last of Clan De'ath to live in the halls of Castle De'ath.

Taking one of the stones, he threw it towards the lake, watching as it skimmed lightly across the water's flat surface, bouncing several times before disappearing beneath the black water with a _plip_.

...

In the basement of the walled-off east Tower, Nick Wilde stood with his rifle still pinning Roderick McKern to the spot - Robert still unconscious somewhere down the corridor.

"How long do you think you can keep this up, MacWilde?" McKern asked, stubbornly. "McGnab will be coming down in a few minutes, and when that happens-"

"And when that happens," Nick said, smoothly, "You are just act like I'm not here and nothing's happening... or I'll put a bullet in your brain."

"You wouldn't," Roderick said, "you're bluffing! I know your kind, and you'll never pull that trigger on an unarmed mammal."

"Oh," Nick said, grinning, "you _know_ my kind, do you? You _know_ about all the years I spent working for the Kray twins in The Firm? The people I killed, murdered, assassinated - for money or for fun? You feel you _know_ I won't pull the trigger, do you? Well, good luck with that. For your sake, I hope you're right."

The feline stared at the fox, his face slowly contorting into an expression of ill-concealed terror. He wasn't to know the only true part of that was that Nick _had_ been in The Firm, and Nick smiled, realizing his bluff - of which he had been called bluff on - had still pulled off regardless.

Leaning back against a console, carbine rifle still trained on the feline, Nick spoke: "What do you mean you 'know my kind' anyway? You been in this business long? Who are you working for; who hired you?"

"I... McGnab is-"

"McGnab is not the one in charge here," Nick said, "and I know for a fact that it isn't just one of the De'aths either. It's someone bigger, watching over us like a puppet master pulling with his strings. Who is he?"

"Professor Moriarty," McKern shot.

Nick snorted. "Fine," he said, "be like that. But tell me this, which De'ath is which? Which one is in charge, and which doesn't have a clue what's going on?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Roderick said, grimly, "why don't you just wait 'til then?"

Nick's ear pricked up to attention. He may not have had the rabbit's sense of hearing, but he knew when footsteps were approaching down a staircase from somewhere up the path before the feline did.

Stepping back into the shadows of a large cabinet near the corner of the room - the gun still fixed on McKern - Nick raised the finger of a paw against his lips in the gesture for silence. "Now remember our agreement," Nick said with a wink, "not a word from you until I'm ready, and I don't blow your brains out against the wall."

Roderick's face tightened with fear further still; the fox chuckling mutely as the feline turned and face the control panel he was stood beside, staring down at the controls without moving or making a sound, turning to the door as it swung open a moment later as the overbearing frame of McGnab paced in.

"Evening, Roderick," the badger said.

"McGnab. It's not often we see you down here."

"Nor me, either," Nick said, stepping cheerfully out from the shadows.

McGnab started back in surprise for an instant and then made as though to leap for the fox, but the presence of a rifle suddenly pointing him in the face was enough to put him of and, with a look of tensile defeat, he raised his hands into the air alongside Roderick.

"You can put your hands down," Nick said, "no-one here's going to get hurt."

"Would you mind explaining precisely what it is you want?" demanded McGnab.

"I was just curious about your little set-up here," Nick explained, causally - as though this was just a nice little chat and the gun he was holding didn't exists - "a do-it-yourself submarine pen, is it?"

"So you found out? May I ask how?"

"Vibrations," Nick said, "you see, the bagpipe playing can drown out the sound of the generators but not the vibrations."

McGnab darted to grab the fox; Nick sprang back from the large badger nimbly and pointed the gun up into his face.

"My swim in the moat helped me too," he continued, slowly distancing himself away from the two, "that bug plughole in the side of the moat especially. The submarines come in from the open seas underwater, come into the loch, then into the mote through a secret channel, and then into the flooded pens. Then you pump the water back into the moat again."

The fox backed away into the doorframe of the room, shooting a pearly-white smile towards the black expression of the badger. "One thing I'm still not sure about," he added, "how do the submarines frighten the fish away? An ultrasonic beacon mounted to the front?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," McGnab said.

Wilde smiled. "I should think very slightly better."

The fox heard rapid footsteps approaching from behind. Turning in the doorway, he raised the rifle and aimed it at the feline who was trying to sneak up behind him. Robert - who had recovered from his encounter with Judy - stopped dead in his tracks as the fox faced him. But then, with the fox's rifle no longer on him, McGnab leaped into action, throwing the fox effortlessly to the floor with his enormous weight and snatching the rifle from his paws.

McGnab handed the rifle to Robert, then bent down and lifted the fox to his feet by the scruff of his neck. "I would very much enjoy putting a bullet in you, Mister _Mac_ Wilde."

Nick managed to force a faint smile, his legs dangling three feet off the floor. "But the wee hole would show on the body."

The badger grimaced. "You're an astute mammal, MacWilde, but then I suppose that's the way with most of your _kind_. Now, if you'll excuse me, _fox_ , I have an appointment with Black Jaime; a date with De'ath."

Smiling, the large badger lowered the fox to his feet and paced out of the room. Nick watched on, able to do very little to fix his current situation, the rifle which had been his until but a moment ago, now in the hands of the feline; currently poking into his neck.

...

Judy Hopps darted up the staircase and down another corridor, her ears pricked attentively upright as she listened out for Ian De'ath. Nick had asked her to confront the De'aths and, while it was easily possible if she had them both together, trying to get one and then the other was too risky - she knew where Angus was and could confront him, but if he managed to warn Ian what she had done her life would be in danger.

She had to wait until both De'aths were together; then she could spring out on them with her gun at the ready, and be sure that neither were able to get away or try anything.

Angus De'ath, she knew, was upstairs in the drawing room, drinking from a large decanter of brandy and muttering swearwords under his breath - from what the rabbit could make out, the badger had just been kicked out of the castle.

But where the Laird, Ian De'ath, was right now, the rabbit didn't have a clue... which was a problem, considering that, as the Laird, it was most likely Ian who was behind it all.

Judy turned down another corridor further, still looking for the badger. _So many rooms in this place,_ she thought, _maybe if I..._

Without warning, the sound of ghostly piping started playing and echoed down the long corridors. The rabbit's ears pricked up she turned towards where the sound was coming from. A sly smile broke on her expression. She knew now that the pipes were played in the east wing... and she had found more than one secret entrance into the bricked-up tower while looking through her book.

 _Finding Ian can wait... it's time this ghost was laid to rest._

...

In the bowls of the east Tower control room, Wilde flinched back uncomfortably as the muzzle of a rifle waved back and forth in front of his face.

"The submarines are heading out in three minutes," Roderick said, "you'd better take MacWilde down there, Robert."

"Our orders were to wait until we had the rabbit too," Robert said, holding the gun against the fox's neck.

"We don't have the time for that," said Roderick, "we can't keep waiting forever."

"I would be in favor of waiting," Nick said, aware that being 'sent down' involved being tied up to a submarine and tugged out to sea underwater... without a breathing mask.

"Of course _you_ would, Wilde," Roderick said, "now come along, Robert, the subs go out in less than two minutes. We send him down now or never."

"Och, very well," said Robert. "Here, take the gun, I'll take MacWilde."

The fox's gaze brightened as the gun was taken away from pressing against his neck, watching intently as Robert handed the gun over to Roderick. Wilde took a deep breath as he made himself ready and, the instant Robert's finger was away from the trigger, he sprang into energetic action.

Throwing himself at Roderick, the fox tussled for control of the gun. Robert made to grab the fox from behind, but Wilde let out a reverse kick into his stomach, and the feline was sent stumbling back against the wall.

Twisting his arms suddenly, the fox prised the rifle from Roderick's grip. He slipped behind the feline with foxish speed, put the rifle length ways across his neck, and pulled tight, strangling Roderick with the rifle.

"MacWilde," Robert cried, "release my brother!"

Nick grinned. "Very well," he said, "consider Wodewick Weleased!"

Taking the gun away from the feline's neck, the fox kicked him harshly in the back, sending him stumbling across the room and falling against the main control panel, pressing the large and obvious red button in the middle.

An alarm rang out, both felines turning hurriedly to the monitors of the submarine pen as water started pouring in and flooding the place.

"The seacocks, there opening!" cried Robert.

"But the equipment," shouted Roderick, "it hasn't been secured yet; they'll sink and be shorted out!"

"Quickly, get the crew over here; they'll sort the fox and his rabbit out. They can't win out over fifteen to two."

"Can't," Roderick cried, "the pen's are flooding; their trapped on the other side!"

"What a pity," Nick said, smiling at the McKerns from the doorframe, "all your little boats are flooding out. Still," he added, making down the corridor"going rather well for me, ay?"

"Get after him, Robert!"

"Don't be a fool, Roderick. He's armed; we're not."

Nick chuckled as he heard this, jogging up the staircase and out of the east tower as he sought to find Judy.

...

In a long and grand corridor in the upper floors of the east Tower, Judy Hopps paced silently - calmly - towards the source of the ghostly piping: a closed door at the end of the corridor. The playing music was growing closer.

A self assured smile on her face, she sat smoothly down upon a chair as she waited for the approaching sound of the piping.

A moment passed. The rabbit crossed her legs, casually. Then the door at the end of the hall swung slowly open, and the ghostly piping of the lament of Black De'ath stepped through - the tall and wide figure of a shrouded badger stepping in, playing a pare of bagpipes as he walked.

"A personal appearance tonight, hey, Black Jamie?"

The shrouded badger turned, startled, at the sound of Judy's voice, stepping into the light with a look of startled panic.

"My mistake," Hopps said, smoothly, "I mean... McGnab."

"I... you..."

The rabbit raised her eyebrows; the towering frame of the badger dropped the pipes to the floor and reached into his waistcoat for a gun.

Judy sprang swiftly from her chair and dove between the badgers legs as he pulled the handgun from his pocket, kicking out at his knees from behind the badger and dropping him onto all fours.

The rabbit grabbed one of his feet and twisted it viciously, turning the badger onto his back before she stepped closer to him and kicked the gun from his hand.

Snarling at her, McGnab threw his weight into standing up again. Judy tried in vain to pin him down - her paws pressing down on his shoulders - but the shear weight of the large badger overpowered her and she found the situation reversed as McGnab's large paws took firm hold of the rabbit around her waist.

Lifting her off him, the badger raised the rabbit into the air before throwing her down onto the ground. The rabbit rolled and recovered unharmed, but being thrown like that was very dangerous for a mammal her size, and she wanted to avoid it happening again.

Lurching towards her, McGnab made to garb Judy a second time, but the rabbit dove aside and grabbed him by the ankle as he passed, sending him falling into the chair she had sat upon earlier and breaking the legs off.

McGnab picked up a leg and hurled it at the rabbit which she managed to dodge but only just. He picked up another piece and hurled that, and the rabbit ducked it as it flew overhead. Then the badger picked up and whole chair and hurtled it towards her.

Judy had no choice but to dive to the floor to avoide being hit, and by the time she had stood again McGnab was upon her, grabbing her around the waist from behind and raising her into the air again.

Judy twisted and managed to grab McGnab's wrist, prying it away from her as she struggled to get herself free. Her insistent twisting payed off, and she slipped from the badgers grasp to the floor.

She fell awkwardly - but with less force than if she'd be thrown down at least - and she was unable to regain her balance before McGnab gabbed for her once again.

This time he took her by her foot, raising her of the ground as she swung and twisted vivaciously - but to no avail. She twisted herself, swinging her arms and her free leg but she was unable to free herself.

His paw clamped tightly around the rabbit's foot, the mountain of McGnab paced hurriedly to the staircase at the top the main hall... to the inside balcony which overlooked a two-story drop onto harconcretete. A grim smile crossed his face.

Seeing her fate, the rabbit redoubled her efforts to get away, seeing only one surefire way of freeing herself from his grasp. It was a dirty shot and Judy didn't much like resorting to that kind of thing, but right now it was more important she freed herself and so, scowling furiously, she let out her hardest of kicks into McGnab's...

A moment later Ian De'ath burst in through the front door to see what had caused the drawn-out cry of pain. He raced into the main hall and saw Judy stood on the top of hte stairs, with McGnab, who was on the floor, paralyzed by pain with his hands clutching at his goolies.

Judy spotted him and made hurried down the staircase towards him, pulling a handgun from her pocket as she closed on him.

"What in God's name is going in here, Miss Hopps?!" Ian demanded, backing from the rabbit with a look of panic, "Have you gone quite insane?"

"We know what you've got set-up here, Ian," Hopps said, "and we're here to shut it down."

"But Miss Hopps, I really have no idea what you're talking about!"

"I do," said Angus De'ath, appearing at the top of the stairs and hurrying down to join the rabbit with a loaded crossbow in paw, "you've been against the idea of letting the public into the castle from the moment we first mentioned it. I've known all along you've been hiding something."

"What are you on about, Angus," Ian said, Angus getting closer and closer to the rabbit with every step, "you know damn well why. It's the tradition-"

"Och, enough with you and your 'traditions'! If you hadn't been so against the idea of letting people in, I would never needed to get involved in the first place." Anugs reached the bottom of the staircase beside Judy, "I've put up with you long enough, Ian, and now, _I_ will Laird of Clan De'ath!"

Judy turned, startled, to the badger now stood right behind her. _Have I been wrong all along?_ Her answer came sooner than anticipated, as the badger grabbed the gun from the rabbit's paws and hurled it across the room. Without delay, he leveled the loaded crossbow at his cousin.

"Angus?" Ian said, backing with terror against the wall. "No, Angus, _no!_ "

Angus fired; the crossbow bolt struck home deep inside Ian De'ath's chest, and the badger clutched at his chest in pain for an instant, and then his body went slack and he stumbled backwards to the floor.

Judy stared at the corps on the floor in shock for an instant. Angus took this instant to grab the rabbit by the throat, squeezing hard and lifting her up against the wall.

Judy clawed at the badger's hands but he was too pumped with adrenaline to even notice. The rabbit tried to fight back, but the strength was already draining from her, even as her vision blurred and the world turned dark.

With a loud _**bang,**_ a bullet shot over the badger's head. "Take your filthy hands off my Judy!" Nick shouted, racing into the room and hastily reloading the rifle, "That one was a warning shot, this one wont be."

Angus dropped the rabbit and she fell, crumpled, to the floor - gasping and gagging for breath but alive at least. He leaped towards the fox and grabbed for the rifle before the fox could reload, taring it from his grip but dropping it himself, sending it tumbling down the staircase beside where the rabbit was wheezing and coughing.

Drawing an arm back, Angus made to punch the fox across the face; Wilde ducked and the paw sailed past overhead, smashing into the wall.

Nick grinned at the cry of pain, but then his smile fell as Angus noticed that the corridor was decorated wall-to-wall in medieval weapons.

A fowl grin spreading on the badger's face, he grabbed a board, Highland Claymore off from the wall and advanced on the fox, laughing as he swung the hefty weapon back and forth, forcing the fox to retreat up the corridor.

With a cry the badger raised the two-handed weapon up over his head and lurched for the fox. Nick dove aside in the last instant and Angus dashed past, stopping at the end of the corridor, turning, and gazing at the fox like a bull gazes at a sheet of red.

The fox looked into the badger's expression. "Oh, crap." As the badger charged, Nick turned-tail and fled down the long corridor, reaching the balcony at the top of the stairs and throwing himself of the edge.

The fox leaped the two story drop and landed heavily on the dining table - the centerpiece of the De'ath family - rolling onto his side, winded, trying to catch his breath as he turned to see what Angus would do.

Angus, rather than skidding to a stop like Nick had hoped, charged on. He pelted from the edge of the parapet, claymore still in hand, and threw himself across the distance at the fox.

Nick swore as he pulled himself off the table which broke into shards as Angus De'ath landed upon it. Nick crawled away form the the table - still winded from the fall, worried his leg might be broken and in no position to fight back as the badger kicked a shard of table aside.

The badger stamped down on the fox's trailing leg as he tried to crawl away, grabbing him by the arm as he called out in pain and turning him onto his front.

Only now getting her breath back, Judy heaved herself onto hands and knees. She turned to Nick, injured, pined to the floor, and her eyes turned white with worry.

Angus grinned down at the fox. He raised the claymore high above his head. Nick winced back from the blow to come, and then...

 _ **Bang!**_ The sword flew from Angus' hand and he recoiled sharply, clutching at his bloodied arm as he turned to snarl at the rabbit.

Judy darted to help her fox, throwing away the discharged rifle she had armed herself with and rushing to help pull the fox to his feet - his leg apparently just sprained.

With a cry of final desperation, Angus charged towards the fox, knocking him into Judy, passing them like pins and a bowling ball as he charged past.

Judy dashed to chase after him, the fox on his feet and following close behind, forcing his burnt-out body to make this one final push for victory.

"Quick," Judy shouted, "the iron maiden, it's a secret entrance to the east wing!"

Fox and rabbit charged after the fleeing badger as he came to the metal door at the top of the steps which lead down to the basement. Flinging the door open, he slammed it shut again into Judy's face, and the rabbit was knock to the floor with a cry; a stream of blood ruing from her nose.

"Hopps!" Nick cried.

"I'm fine," Judy said, trying to stand as she wiped at the blood form her nose, "get in there, Nick, go!"

The fox obeyed, throwing the dungeon door open and darting down the steps, reaching the floor and rounding the corner just in time to see Angus as he pulled open the door of the iron maiden, glancing back to the fox with a laugh of final triumph. Before Nick could react, the badger threw himself into the maiden and the door swung shut behind him.

 _"Aruugh-"_

Nick's pace slowed to a stop. He gazed at the iron maiden for a long moment, then turned to the rabbit as she hurried down the staircase, nose still bloodied, and made to pass him.

"Hurry, Nick," she said, alert, but clearly in pain, "if we're quick we might-"

Nick held out a paw to stop her. Not saying a word, the fox made sure the rabbit stayed put before walking slowly towards the silent iron maiden.

Pacing up to it gingerly, the fox opened it up a tiny crack. Nick cringed back from the sight, shutting the door hastily as he backed away from from the scene. The fox backed away again and stood beside the rabbit.

"You said it was a secret entrance," he said, slowly.

"It is," Judy insisted, making towards it, "you just-"

Nick's paw stopped her. "Then... it's jammed."

The rabbit processed what the fox had said for a moment; then her eyes slowly widened. "Oh..."

"Come on, Hopps," Nick sighed, uneasily, "I've seen enough, let's get the heck out of this creepy old place; we'll let SIS run cleanup." The fox turned and limped from the room, taking Judy's paw in his he lead her away from the morbid scene.

After helping clean the rabbit's face of the blood, Nick phoned their handler at the Secret Intelligence Service and called for a pickup. Soon after, a SIS team turned up and the fox took Judy home - far away from the empty and lifeless halls of Castle De'ath - for good.


	9. Until De'ath Do Us Part

The air of the city of Zootopia was still and cold, the land softly illuminated by the pale, blue rays of the moon which hung in silent observation above the clouds.

In the top floor apartment of an expensive block of flats, the curtains were drawn shut against the coldness of the night, the doors locked against the interruptions of the world, and the lights were out - encasing the flat in a comforting darkness - the only source of light being the large, open fireplace which crackled warmly, softly illuminating a part of the living room, and the small table and two chairs close by.

Smiling sleepily, the rabbit sat in one of the chairs rubbed at her eyes with the back of her paw as she yawned. She gazed into the empty seat opposite her, then an ear pricked up as she heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching behind her.

She turned and smiled at the fox as he returned from the kitchen. Having taken their empty dinner plates away, he sat back down at the table, close to Judy, and reached down out towards the fireplace, to poke at the coals with a poker.

"You did good work today," Judy said warmly, making the fox's face brighten to a fond smile as his gaze turned upwards towards her.

"Couldn't have done it without your help, Carrots," he said, setting the poker down and turning towards her.

"So," Hopps said, holding her paws out towards the dwindling flames, "what actually happened again?"

"You were at the debriefing too," Nick said, sitting back.

"Yeah, but in among all that talk of the economic implications of the return of the fish and all the theories about how the food should be distributed and all, I kinda got a bit lost."

The fox chuckled softly, raising a crystal glass of vintage red wine to his lips and taking a sip. "Go through what you know; I'll see if I can't clear up the rest."

"Oh, I know most of it. The Secret Intelligence Service were called in to investigate the disappearance of fish up here in the Highlands, and they traced the center of the disappearances to around the area of Castle De'ath. When that Newfoundland who was diving in the moat outside turned up dead and having been on the rack, SIS called us out to find out what was really going on."

"Don't forget our covers," Nick added, "you as an adviser for opening the castle up to the public; me as a Highland historian."

"Right. As we eventually found out, the East tower - which had supposedly been completely walled off for years - had been upgraded and turned into a miniature submarine station. They had a whole crew and a dozen one-mammal submarines hid there and Ian never even knew, and they used sonar beacons on the fronts of these subs because they wanted they wanted to frighten the fish away, and they wanted to frighten the fish away because they _... they..._ alright, that's where I kinda phased out."

Nick smirked. "Never had you down as the type to phase out during class."

"It's been a long day, okay? We were both nearly killed several times and I just wanted the briefing to end so we could get back home, have a nice dinner, and go to bed."

"Okay, so with the fish all driven out into open waters, the fishing industry in the Highlands of Zootopia - fishing being the main economical mainstay up there - would have collapsed. All the independent fishermammals and fishing companies had to close down or go bust, not only ruining the economy up here but, as a knock on effect, cutting the amount of fish available down in Zootopia down to a fifth and more than tripling the price."

"And fish is one of the key sources of food for many species of mammal," added Hopps, "so when all the fish disappeared, no-one in the poorer areas could afford to buy any and the rich fought over the remaining few."

"That's right. Carrots, being vegetarian you might overlook it, but us carnivores do have a different diet and different needs to you herbivores. And since it was made illegal for pred to eat pray - and rightly so I might add - _fish_ has become the only readily available source for all kinds of dietary needs."

The rabbit nodded. "I see why it's such a big issue. I mean, feeding the population aside, without the source of income the Highlands get from trading fish with the Lowlands of the city of Zootopia, thousands of mammals up there would've be starving or on the streets. Then that would have an effect on the ecosystem in Zootopia itself, and the reputations of that could stretch right out into the far reaches of all Zoophon."

"It's incalculable how much damage would've been caused just for the sake of a few fish. Let's just say it's a good job we worked it out when we did."

" _You_ worked it out, you mean. All I did was kick McGnab in the groin, pointed a gun at the wrong De'ath and nearly got throttled to death by a badger."

"Hey, you saved my tail too: freeing me form being chained up down in the East tower; taking down Angus just as he was about to split me in two with a sword, and all your investigations down in the basement."

"Alright, but how did you work out what was going on?"

"Look at it this way. Why was that Newfoundland put on the rack?"

"Because... McGnab thought he was investigating what they had hidden in the loch?"

"Which proves they must have _something_ to hide down there, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered."

"I get it. After that, you knew where to look, and then it was just a matter of taking a dive in the mote."

"And what I found was a big plughole joining the moat to the loch and to the open sea. You might also remember at dinner on the first night, before Angus showed us the walled-off East wing, that our plates and glasses were vibrating just a little?"

"Oh, that was vibrations of the plug in the mote being opened, yes?"

"Yeah, and the bagpipe playing was to hide the sound of the submarines when they left the underwater pens."

"But why all the secrecy? I get why they'd want to keep it quiet, but before we turned up, there was no-one to keep in the dark about it but for Ian, so why bother?"

"You forget, Hopps, Ian was still the Laird of Clan De'ath. He still had the right and authority to demand Angus, McGnab and the others leave the caste - which he would've done, had he found out in time"

Judy sighed. "It's such a shame what happened, though."

"The destruction of the clan?"

"Ian and Angus both dead, yeah."

"Well, the clan's slowly beet getting smaller and smaller over the past three generations, Carrots."

"It's not just that. We lost a lot of information about how the operation was run when Angus died. The McKerns and McGnab have been picked up and put in a cell, yes, but they were mostly in the dark about how the operation was run anyway."

Nick nodded. "We know enough to figure most of it out," he said, reaching out towards the wall and putting another log of wood on the open fire they were sat beside.

"Yeah, I guess. But, one thing I'm still not clear on: if Angus wanted his fish-scaring operation to be secret, why arrange for advice on opening the castle up to the public? Why risk filling the castle with tourists who might ask too many questions or get suspicious about what was going on?"

Nick took a long breath as he thought, sighing as he shook his head. "I don't know, Carrots," he said, "I don't know."

"There is something, actually... Nick, I think I might know." The fox looked up to her with interest; the rabbit spoke on. "Well, just before Angus killed Ian, he said something about only having to get involved because Ian wouldn't let him open up the castle to the public; wouldn't let him make any money out of it."

"Huh. So, again, simple greed destroys all. If he hadn't had been so greedy for money, he would never have got involved in that whole fishing fiasco, and if he hadn't still been so greedy again, he wouldn't have been making plans to open the castle up to the public."

"So his greed both made and ruined his plans. But how was ruining the fishing industry going to make him money anyway? What was he to gain from-" Nick turned to the rabbit sharply who stuttered to a stop, startling her with the sudden coldness of his gaze. "I... Nick, I... I'm sorry if I-"

Getting a hold of himself, Nick's expression warmed again. "Sorry, Carrots, it's not your fault. I'm just a little ~" Gazing off to the side, the fox sighed, distractedly.

"What is it? Tell me."

"I don't know, Judy. I don't know who was really in charge their. I mean, I know that Angus was the mammal overseeing it all, but he was only doing it for the money, and there _is_ no money in driving the fish away! He had nothing to gain, personally, for doing that... unless he had a sponsor."

"A sponsor? You mean, he was payed by a third party? Someone interested in undermining Zootopia?

"Yeah, and someone powerful too. If Angus had the money for all that underwater equipment and sonar stuff in the first place, he would've had the cash to practically rebuild the whole castle."

Judy was silent for a long moment. "An agent from Zistopia?"

"More than likely." The fox watched the rabbit's troubled expression for a moment - troublement wasn't what he wanted to see from her, not tonight. Reaching out slowly, he slid his hand across the table, slipping Judy's paw into his hand. "Come on, Jules," he said, softly, "tonight's a night of calibration, not of worry, okay?"

Judy gazed at the fox before her, speaking a soft: "Okay." It the light of the fire, his russet fur was warm and soft and glowed beautifully, and his emerald eyes shone with the flickering light of the flames. Beautiful. There was no other word for it; it didn't no matter how she felt for him.

Hopps guessed she must have been gazing at him dreamily for longer than she had intended, because Wilde then lent swiftly towards her with a small smile on his lips, his face glowing in the warm light of the fire, and placed a light kiss on the tip of her small, pink nose.

Judy giggled softly, her nose twitching just a little. "What was that for?"

"Return of a favor," the fox said, pointing to his cheek, "I shall never wash this spot again". Judy smiled, making Nick smile even further as he saw all the worry draining out of her. Picking up the bottle of red, Nick emptied what remained out into his and Judy's glasses. "I propose a toast," he said, lifting his glass towards the rabbit. "To Carrots: greatest secret agent the world has ever known, and the finest damn female it's ever been my good fortune to meet."

The rabbit pick up her glass and tapped it against Nick's. "And to Nick Wilde, the best a rabbit could ever hope for, in the pursuit of a friend, work partner and..." Judy trailed off, a playful expression crossing her face.

Nick smiled warmly. "Go on, darlin'... say it."

A sly grin split across the rabbit's muzzle. "You already know, just as well as I, what we are, my sweet."

"That I do, Missie," Nick said, placing his glass down on the table without taking a drop, then plucking her glass from the rabbit's paw the moment before she was about to take a sip and placing her glass down on the table beside his... removing all obstructions between his face and hers... " _that I do._ "

His paw touching upon the rabbit's cheek, he lent in close towards her, a sweet smile upon the rabbit's lips as the fox's nose touched genitally against hers.

Her eyes drifting softly shut, the rabbit lent slowly forwards, and allowed her emotions free roam over her body.

The piece of wood the fox had put in the fire took, and the room was lit and warmed by the playing flames of the fire within.

* * *

 _ **~ Zootopia, SIS: Castle De'ath ~  
~ By Mister Smail~**_

* * *

 _This has been a FanFiction for the film, Zootopia. We are all aware of the credentials of the film, and so they will not be stated here._

Castle De'ath, however, was based on episode 5 series 4 of the black and white television series, The Avengers (which has nothing what so ever to do with the superhero franchise of the same name). This episode was directed by James Hill and written by John Lucarotti (source: _. /the-avengers-tv-series/_ ). First broardcast in the UK in 1965 and in the US in 1966, it was shot on location at Allington Castle, and starred Patric MacNee as John Steed (played, in this instance, by Nick Wilde) and Diana Rigg as Emma Peel (played, in this, by Judy Hopps).

I'm glad that you have chosen to dedicate your time into read of this humble tome (and if you seek another there is a Christmas series, 'Too Many Christmas Trees' which is also based on The Avengers)... and if, by chance, you have not read my main story, Paw in Paw, yet, then I would strongly advice you so to do.

I am merely a single man and there are many other works out there which are greater than this, and I hope that you continue to support not only me, but the works of other writers, long into the future.

That's all from me... this time.

Bee seeing you,  
Mister Smail.

* * *

 _ **The End**_


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